


Ways of Seeing, Ways of Seeming

by needleyecandy



Series: Ways [1]
Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Anal Sex, Bigotry & Prejudice, Bondage, Eventual Fluff, Fisting, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Romance, Violence, child death - non-character, not really dubcon but maybe still triggery, sacred prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-01-27 20:59:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 66,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1722350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needleyecandy/pseuds/needleyecandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki, searching for information to break the deadlock in the war with Vanaheim, sees an appealing new prostitute at one of Freya's temples. He decides to go for a day of fun and possible spying. It turns out that one day is not nearly enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Seeing Globe

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic, and it was meant to be a nice little PWP, just to get myself into the swing of things. That is not how it turned out. Instead, it is a long melange of Norse and generic Medieval histories, mixed with apocryphal stories about sexual practices in ancient Mesopotamian temples. Still very porny, but some plot snuck its way in there somehow.
> 
> I coined the word hierodore- temple prostitutes were called hierodules, or temple slaves, so I switched out lover for slave, as best I could without actually knowing Greek. 
> 
> Comments are lovely, but since I'm usually too shy to comment on stories, I'm not going to request them from others. Why I'm too shy to comment, yet am willing to admit that this stuff came out of my head, I do not know.

Loki glared around the dining hall, rolling his eyes in boredom as he watched one courtier after another slump drunkenly over the tables. If it weren’t so pathetic, it might almost be amusing to watch the way they rushed to outdo each other in following everything Laufey did. Almost. He glanced over at his father, snoring into his empty plate, nose smudged with dregs of gravy. Helblindi and Byleistr, just past him, were still going strong, working through mug after mug of mead with a grim determination to outdo one another in consumption, as though the stuff came on ice floes rather than having to be bought, at too high a price, from Asgard. For a moment, watching their dismal competition made Loki think that maybe his small size might not be so bad. It might mean he had no hope of being named heir to the throne, but at least he didn’t have to grovel like his brothers.

  _Revolting sycophants_ , he thought, as he turned and gave a slight gesture to the page who stood waiting behind him. “Have Angrboða meet me in the observation tower,” he ordered, sliding back his chair back and standing. While Loki was fond of variety, Angrboða was his favorite of the palace courtesans. Lacking the beauty that graced the others, she instead relied on a razor-sharp wit and a cheerful willingness to experiment. Nor did she treat him with the disdain that he too often faced. To the limited extent that Loki could be said to have friends, she was one.

 Loki climbed the tower quickly, reaching out with his seiðr to make the heavy curtains fall away from the windows before him to let in the icy air, clear and crisp after the hall’s heavy odors of meat and drunken men. In the top room, he dropped into a plush chair with a sigh. He drummed his fingers on its worn arm and lolled his head back as he listened for Angrboða’s soft steps on the stairs.She was usually quick to respond to his summons, but tonight he found himself growing dull as he waited for her. Rolling his head to the table at his side, he began to gaze into the seeing globe. He peered deeply, directing it to Midgard, then further in, to one of Freya’s temples. A runt prince had to earn his keep somehow, and bringing Laufey information that may prove useful in the war against the Vanir was one of the more enjoyable ways he knew.

 The Jötnar had agents spread throughout the upper realms, working to cut off Vanir access to crucial supplies, but they couldn’t blockade the entire realm, and there were only so many agents. When Loki began tracking the offerings made on Midgard, they found they were able to direct their efforts more effectively. In the season when the mortals brought food, the Jötnar interfered with weaponry imports to Vanaheim; in winter, when food was scarce, the mortals would sigh and offer swords or arrows, and the Jötnar would block grain shipments. If Loki’s personal war effort meant spending hours in a comfortable chair, a courtesan’s head bobbing vigorously in his lap as he gazed into the globe watching the temple hierodores take lover after lover, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

 His favorite moment was the time a wealthy merchant had given a chestful of gold in thanks for his wife’s long-longed-for pregnancy - before the Vanir had the chance to spend it on restocking their warehouses, the Jötnar agents spread the rumor that Freya had devised a spell to enchant common pebbles to appear as gold, but that the spell only held for a moon before collapsing. By the time the Vanir had agreed on how to spend their unexpected bounty, they found that no reputable merchant would take anything from them but silver or gemstones.

 Loki’s thin lips curled in a smile as he thought of the day he saw that offering be made. He had devised the entire plan with one hand twisted in Sigyn’s hair, the other pinching a dusky violet nipple as she swallowed him down, one of her thick fingers curled inside him and teasing the little bundle of nerves that made him see white with pleasure. She had glared up at him, eyes wincing as he twisted her nipple. His hand idly unlaced his breeches and slid out his hardening cock as he thought of it. She was always ill-tempered, and while Loki had at first thought she hated him, and for a time avoided her company, he later learned that she simply enjoyed a cordial dislike for everyone in the realm. It made him feel like she was a compatriot, even though he shared as fully in her general dislike as did everyone else. Loki gently stroked himself, idly wondering if perhaps he shouldn’t have summoned her instead, finding that the thought of watching her fulfill his wishes with only the thinnest of veils over her ill-grace appealed to him tonight.

 His nimble fingers stuttered to a halt as his eyes took in the sight in the globe before him. _Well, he’s new_ , Loki thought to himself. The Orfjara temple certainly didn’t have this one the last time he’d taken a look. The new addition was a muscular man, tall for a mortal, and his hair and skin glowed as though he’d been dipped in gold. He wore the simple linen kilt that all the male hierodores wore in summer. He had just filled a bucket of water at the well and was carrying it to the temple baths. As Loki watched, the man set it down to stretch, turning his face to the sky.

 When Loki saw his eyes, they took his breath away. Jotunheim was a realm of grays and blues that bled together. A thousand grays, all of them blue, and a thousand blues, all of them gray. The Jotunns themselves were a cold shade of blue that heated to violet in the throes of passion or hatred. Loki thought he knew every blue that there was, knew them all as well as the blue of his own hand, but this was entirely new, a shade nearly as warm as sunshine. Loki watched as he continued on with the bucket, carrying load after load of water until the bath was finally full.

 Red eyes gave way to black pupils as Loki watched the man unknot his kilt, climb the steps to the side of the bath, and sink down into the cool water with an easy smile. Loki certainly hadn’t expected to see _that_ on a mortal. Definitely intriguing. The man stretched out one arm for a bar of soap and brought it into the water. Loki directed the globe further in, to break the surface and give him a better view of the man washing himself, running the slick bar over the proud cock, gently easing back the foreskin, before his hands moved lower. One hand lifted his balls out of the way as the other dragged his fingers through the softening surface of the soap. Was he really going to… oh yes, he was.

 Loki watched as he eased first one, then two, slick fingers inside himself, twisting them slightly. Loki leaned forward in his chair, eyes intent on the sight before him, the tight entrance slowly opening to gentle persuasion. He was only vaguely aware of the sound of his breathing picking up, only vaguely aware of anything until the sharp rap of Angrboða’s knuckles on the door echoed. With his lip curled in a snarl, Loki waved one hand to clear the globe before calling to her to enter.

 The next tolling of the clock found Loki’s cock buried firmly in Angrboða’s ass. As he watched it slide in and out of the blue ring, he found himself picturing one of a very different color. _Harsh violet plunging into a red grasping tightness, blue hands holding open two golden orbs._ He gritted his teeth and spilled deep inside.

 ******

Thor sighed happily as he sank down into the bath, sitting on the submerged ledge that ran around the edges. The cool water felt delicious against his skin. It was early for the morning to be so warm, boding yet another day of aggressive heat. He knew that by nightfall he would be covered in a veneer of sweat and come, both his own and others’, but at least for now, he could be blissfully clean.

 He relaxed a moment, enjoying the bright birdsong that spilled through the window above him, before beginning to wash. His cock stirred slightly under his careful ministrations, but he did nothing to encourage it. There would be plenty of that later. The bar absorbed the water and grew slick, almost sliding out of his hands, before he worked his fingers around it, covering them in the thin layer of slickness. He set the bar back on the side of the bath and leaned further back, spreading his legs and reaching between them. He frowned and clenched slightly at the mild burn of the soap before forcing himself to relax and accept. He pressed down and the fingers slid in, spreading the burn inside but bringing also a delicious stretch.

 Working them deeper and twisting slightly, Thor felt a rush of heat through his cock as he suddenly hit the spot that made his toes curl. He tried to will it back down as he focused on the simple act of cleaning everything he could reach. After a few more twists, he spread his fingers slightly to let the water surge in to do a gentle rinse before sliding out. As his entrance closed, the soap burn flared momentarily before quieting and letting him once again simply sit back and watch the sun as it rose high enough to peek into the bath chamber.

 “Good morning, Thor,” came a light voice from behind him.

 Twisting around, Thor smiled as Jarnsaxa sat gracefully on the side of the bath. “Hello, Jarnsaxa, how are you this morning?”

 “Glad that we’re getting a cool morning, I think we’re in for a scorcher again. Got room in there for two?”

 “Indeed,” he said, scooting over to one to make room for her as she leaned forward to slip off her sandals.

 Thor hasn’t talked to her as much as he has to many of the hierodores, but what he’s seen of her, he’s liked. Level-headed, warm, and totally nonchalant about her appeal to visiting devotees in a way that put the more arrogant - and less popular - hierodores to shame. “So, you’ve been here, what, a month now?” she asked as she sank past the seat to lower her head briefly into the water, rich brown hair haloing around her.

 “In four days,” he answered as she rose and shook her hair out.

 “Mmm. Long enough to be getting the hang of things. How are you liking it?”

 “I am growing accustomed. At first it felt so unstructured after my time in the jarl’s forces, but I’m beginning to see that this life has its own discipline, and it is growing familiar.“

 Jarnsaxa nodded. “Yes, I can see it taking some adjusting. Do you know how long you plan to stay?”

 “Until I’m summoned back to fight. The truce seems to be holding, thank the gods.”

 “Then let us pray you are here for a long time.” Jarnsaxa smiled and settled back down into the water, her eyes closed and ears covered. It was a gentle way of ending the conversation. Thor would have liked to talk more, but didn’t begrudge her wanting some peace and quiet before the busyness ahead of her.

 Thor mirrored her, the water filling his ears and letting him hear the calm beating of his heart. Four months now, since it had been roused in bloodlust. After the truce had been in place for three months, the jarl called his forces together to explain that he was releasing many of them, as their services would not be needed for the foreseeable future. Thor had been one of the lucky ones offered the opportunity to continue to serve Freya, though now in her aspect of fertility goddess, rather than goddess of war.

 He wasn’t lying when he said the work here was better than the long days of drills, heavy armor heating painfully in the sun as they marched in formation. But battle… oh, battle. Thor thought of the screaming of his warhammer as he swung her through the air and down on the heads of his enemies, the way the dull crunch of bone resonated up his arm, the way the ground grew soggy with blood and viscera, and the blind red berserker rage when all those things fell so perfectly in place and Thor knew with every speck of his being that this was what he was made for.

 But Jarnsaxa was right. Much as he craved battle, this newfound peace was a precious thing, one to be protected. And he did truly enjoy his new service to Freya, evenings spent in lust with the devotees who came to the temple. If in the midst of it, his gaze occasionally fell to Mjölnir, hung carefully on the wall of his chambers, he could be forgiven a twinge of longing. A life that offered passion in both battle and bed was for others, men like the jarl who had property to support a family and land to defend, before bequeathing it to a new generation to do the same.

 Men like Thor, who could never hope to be paid in more than their own keep, had no hope of marrying, little hope even of saving enough to make more than the most infrequent offerings at the temples of Freya. Younger sons of younger sons had to remember to be grateful.

 ******

 Loki and Angrboða lay stretched on the floor, watching the swirling lights he idly spun from his fingers as they relaxed, spent. He was so small for a jotun that he was well aware his cock would never bring pleasure to the courtesans, but with the ones he liked, he made efforts to accommodate their needs. Sometimes he would use his fingers on them, afterwards; other times, when he was feeling extra kind, he would cast a monstrous double that would fill them the way he couldn’t, and have it take them on all fours while they desperately sucked him off.

 And he was kind enough to the people he liked. Not that there were many, and not that it spared them his tricks, but his few favorites were spared his more mean-spirited amusements. Angrboða knocked his knee with her own. “So, who was that you were thinking of, then? I could tell it wasn’t me.” She said it simply, without rancor. It was one of the things he liked about her. They could entertain themselves together, and enjoy it, even as she knew it was her job and not a romance. Not that any of them expected or wanted romance from him, but some seemed to think he ought to want it.

 “Mmm. I was watching one of Freya’s temples while I waited for you. Orfjara’s got a new one, a most delicious piece of meat.”

 She smiled. “And are you going to go savor?”

 He rolled his eyes. “Make my devotions and leave offerings to enrich an enemy? I think not.”

 “What if you took something that wouldn’t enrich them? Don’t tell me _you_ can’t think of a trick.”

 His lips quirked. “I’ll think about it. It would be a good jest, wouldn’t it?”

 “ _Good_?” she teased. “I try not to ask you for many favors, my lord, but I beg, if you do this, please allow me to watch through the globe.”

 “We’ll see,” he answered, letting the bright lights slowly dim. “For now, you head back to your chambers, I would sleep alone tonight. Tell a servant that I will have breakfast alone tomorrow, two hours after daybreak.”

 Angrboða rose, nodding. “Is there anything particular you would have them bring?”

 Loki thought a moment, watching her pull on her dress of courtesan gray, before shaking his head. “No, whatever they’re making for the court will be fine. Here,” he added, twisting one hand in the air before him and holding out the emerald pendant that had materialized there. “You’ve pleased me well tonight, and I would see you wear more color than your gray.”

 She bowed her head as she took it. “Thank you, my lord,” she said, and was gone.

 Loki rose after she had gone, looking at the globe a moment before turning away to dress and point his steps to his own chamber.

 

 


	2. Dedications

Breakfast was fish with lichen. Again. Loki supposed it was what he got for not requesting anything, but really. It was becoming ridiculous how often they were being fed upon this. The last time Loki visited Asgard, pleading for more active intercession from them, he ate something called potato. It looked a little bit like clouds, but tasted creamy and mildly earthy, and Loki was sure it would be perfect for breakfast. If only the court didn’t spend so much upon mead, they could buy decent food like potato.

Loki stopped himself then. Laufey was weak for trying so constantly to drown his sorrows in the revolting drink, indeed. But if the Vanir had not committed such a crime against them, though, Laufey would have no sorrows, he would rule over a proud and prosperous Jotunheim. _His sons would not live in crumbling chambers,_ Loki thought as a piece of ceiling collapsed, precariously close to his head. Even if Asgard would just join the battle, on a limited basis, it might tip them from the détente that had stood for centuries. Odin even agreed that Jotunheim was in the right, that the Vanir theft has been a truly egregious act, but still he insisted that it was best if Asgard remained a neutral party to organize negotiations.

Loki ate enough of his unappealing breakfast to quell the sounds from his stomach and quickly dressed in his light daily armor. The Vanir threat was not high enough to warrant full, heavy suits on a daily basis, but still, no member of the royal family was so foolhardy as to go without completely. He wasn’t entirely sure why he bothered showing up to these meetings, anyway. Each day it was the same retreading of the same complaints, with no new ideas on how to win the war. It would hardly do to be the glaring omission, however.

He sighed and left his chambers for the war rooms. It really said everything about life in Jotunheim that even as the palace complex was falling apart around their ears, they were devoting entire wings to house rooms for discussing the war. One room had no purpose but to hold maps, while their people huddled in caves, inter-realm trade had collapsed almost completely, and Loki was being fed lichen.

The morning war room was nearly full by the time he arrived. Byleistr pressed against the wall with obvious ill-grace to allow Loki to squeeze through to an open space in the back. He didn’t have anything to report, today, so it was easier to make his presence known and then fade into the background.

A few more stragglers crammed in before Laufey called the meeting to order, slamming his fist on the table.

“Today’s meeting is called to discuss the war with Vanaheim,” he said. Loki mouthed along with the words; it was the same every day.

“We need to strike at the heart of Vanaheim,” shouted Thrym. “For too long, their continued prosperity has mocked us.”

Thrym was right, to an extent. The Vanir now had the power of both summer and winter, and they were certainly prosperous compared to the shell that Jotunheim was becoming, but they, too, suffered deeply from the constant demands of war. Loki understood, in a way that most Jötnar did not, how much this seemingly eternal conflict was carried out upon the backs of the ordinary people of each realm. Much as the royals might like to posture, it was rarely their blood that was shed. It made continued warfare easy.

“We must improve the blockades,” declared Nal. “The information that Loki has provided to my agents has been invaluable in weakening the enemy forces,” he said, with a nod in Loki’s direction. Loki nodded back just as graciously. No one watching would have guessed how deeply the two men hated each other, but they at least had the ability set aside their differences and cooperate for the good of Jotunheim. If only everyone in this room had the same talent, Loki thought, the war might be won by now.

“But never enough,” Mímir countered. “I admit, we are better able to hold our own since Loki began monitoring their income, but holding our own will not win us the war. Nal is more interested,” he added, with a look of challenge in his eyes, “in maintaining the current situation than he is in a victory for Jotunheim. Everyone knows how he profits from it.”

Indeed, Nal was the single wealthiest jotun, far exceeding the royal family, and he did indeed enrich his coffers by acting on the information provided by Loki. At the same time that he profited himself, though, he managed to support the war effort in ways that no other member of the council had been able to do. It was hardly ideal, but Loki had grown up in a world of lesser evils; they were all he knew.

*****

Loki sat, bored, as he watched his father’s court attempt to drink itself into a stupor again. Yet again. Litr was the first to collapse tonight, which was surprising. He was usually one of the last holdouts. Loki pondered idly what transgression he’d committed that would urge him to outdo his rivals so determinedly. Something boring, no doubt. Perhaps he’d been caught eying Farbauti. One would think Laufey would be used to that by now - Farbauti was comely, Loki had to admit, even if she did treat him appallingly - but it still drove Laufey into a rage. Not that wondering was even worth his time, Loki thought as he stifled a yawn.

What _was_ worth his time, though, was the face that peeked in the far door, before pulling back and slamming it shut again. What was Bylgja doing here? She so rarely left the children’s wing of the palace. As he wondered whether he might be able to melt into the shadows and follow her, Helblindi smacked him on the back.

“Loki, go see what the old hag needs, won’t you? Make yourself useful for once.”

He bristled both at his brother’s words and at his easy dismissal of his usefulness. Perhaps he did take after Laufey - he continued to hate where he should have become accustomed. He remained outwardly calm, glad for a good excuse to leave. Laufey doted revoltingly on his grandchildren, never mind they were the most hideous little things in all of Jotunheim, and if it meant tending to the brats, he wouldn’t mind Loki making an early departure.

He strode proudly down the hall, every bit a prince of the realm, ignoring the whispers and kissing noises that followed him. It was an old joke, and one that was never funny to begin with, that he was as small and delicate as a woman. At least it was better than the other joke, the one they made when they were sober, that he was as small and delicate as a child. He’d seen enough of Jötnar women in battle to know what the ‘small and delicate’ women of his race could do.

Bylgja was a receding figure at the end of the hallway by the time Loki was out of the hall, and he ran to catch up with her.

His throat caught as he saw how frail she was becoming. She had been old when he was a babe, her face as wrinkly as an old apple, but she had still been strong and determined. Once, when Loki was ill, she stayed awake for three weeks straight tending to him, fighting every second to keep him alive when no one else cared one way or the other. It was only when he was much older that he learned where her tenacity came from. She had been a new wife when the war with Vanaheim began, four months pregnant when her husband fell at the Yorvik Salient. In her grief, she lost the child she carried, and when she took to caring for the children of others she tended them as though skinned knees and sicknesses were Vanir she could revenge herself upon.

Loki left then, lingering outside a moment as he heard her begin to tell Erland and Jar their bedtime story, about the day the Vanir came and stole the Casket of Ancient Winters. Bylgja nursed children on a potent mix of love and hate.

“Once upon a time, the Vanir king Kvasir was jealous of the Jötnar and coveted the power of winter for himself, so one night he took advantage of good king Ymir’s hospitality and snuck into the treasury…”

The story always started the same way, and each night she would give it a different ending, each night a new triumph for Jotunheim. And triumphs for Jotunheim were indeed becoming the things of fairy tales, he mused as he quietly closed the door.

He was worn down by the day, and after a moment’s debate, decided to retire to his chambers for the night. Walking quietly away from the children’s wing, he sighed as he heard the distant sounds of crashing ice. Another part of the palace to be repaired. At least it wasn’t something he had to deal with, he saw happily, as he entered his door to find no damage beyond that of the morning. He peeled off his armor with a pleased sigh and buried himself deep in the nest of pelts that covered his bed. His brothers mocked him for his luxurious bed, one more suited to children than the plain ice slab normally used by adult Jötnar, but Loki liked the cushioned softness of furs, and he wasn’t about to sacrifice his comfort, not when they would just find something else about which to mock him if he gave this up.

Loki thought of the day’s debates and began to hatch a plan. It had been far, far too long since he’d had a really good piece of mischief. _Strike at the heart of Vanaheim,_ Thrym said. _Get more information for the agents,_ said Nal. Loki couldn’t help thinking about how much he might learn from carefully directed conversations in a temple devoted to Freya; what he might get to hear that would otherwise be missed when he was away from his seeing globe. And if he happened to enjoy the favors of a certain golden hierodore while going about it, well, that could scarcely be helped.

*****

Thor prowled restlessly. He had barely been claimed at all today, and without the usual exhaustion that came from heavy use - worship, he corrected himself, he had to work on remembering to use the right words - without that exhaustion, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He had been raised to be a warrior, and his body was accustomed to intense days, whether in battle or drills, and it was proving difficult to sleep.

He barely heard Sif’s footsteps before she was next to him. It always surprised him, how quietly she walked even when she strode with purpose. It was sometimes hard to remember how physically tiny she was, as her presence never failed to fill a room.

“You’re fitful tonight,” she said softly.

“My lady,” he bowed. “The fire was most beautiful today.”

As the priestess of the temple, Sif did not receive devotees, but was responsible for most of the other rituals that went on there. Most of her time was spent with administration, though her most important task was in building the holy fire that would send the devotees’ offerings to the goddess.

“Thank you. You’re dodging my question,” she answered dryly.

“It wasn’t _actually_ a question.”

“Humor me.”

He sighed. “The way of life here has grown familiar, but I am still unaccustomed to so much idleness. I spent years either marching, in battle or in training. I find it difficult to sleep when my body is not worn out, no matter how tired my mind may be.”

She looked at him a moment, her eyes thoughtful. “I do not in truth know how to counsel you,” she said. “Were you to remain here forever, I would suggest that you simply try to forget your former way of life. But when your presence will last only as long as the truce, I can’t in good conscience urge you to leave such things in the past.” She patted his hand. “Let me think on this.”

*****

Sif often took her morning meal at her desk seeing to business matters, her afternoons and evenings usually taken up by devotees. She was there when Thor arrived in the meal hall the next morning, though, a sure sign that this would be a quieter and more seemly breakfast than most. Jarnsaxa was seated at one end of the table, and Thor took the empty chair next to her. On rowdy days he was happy to sit anywhere and listen to the conversation, laughing and blushing at the bold speech from some of his colleagues. Herta was an expert mimic, and could always be trusted to provide imitations of the facial expressions of her devotees from the previous day. When more polite conversation was expected, though, Thor was choosier about where he sat.

Jarnsaxa’s mouth was full of bread but she smiled a greeting as he bid her good morning. She started coughing as she swallowed it, and he quickly refilled her water.

“Thank you,” she said, catching her breath. “It’s yesterday’s.”

Selby’s bread was indeed delicious when it was freshly baked, but it grew stale and dry quickly. It was a general goal to avoid having any left at the end of the day, but things didn’t always work out. Thor took a slice and loaded it with as much jam as he was able to balance on top of it. If he was going to eat dry bread, he could at least make it as sweet as possible. Not that he didn’t do the same thing with fresh bread.

Jarnsaxa gave him an arch look. “I don’t want it to give me coughing fits,” he explained, lamely.

“Mmm,” she said. “The actions of someone who’s never had to help make the year’s jam.”

Her bread did, indeed, have a very thin layer.

“You’d rather have dry bread than make more preserves?” It was difficult to believe.

She nodded. “Making enough jam to last the whole temple for a year, and doing it every year, you learn to prefer eating less of it.”

“You’ve been here so long, then? You don’t look that old, forgive me.”

“I’ve had twenty four winters,” she said, “but all of them have been here. My parents died in the plague, and I was brought here as an orphan. I was dedicated as a baby, and grew up here. That’s many years of making jam,” she finished, wryly.

“You were dedicated as a babe? That doesn’t seem right,” he said, shaking his head.

She shrugged. “It’s not common, but not unheard of, either,” she said. “There were many orphans made that year, and I’m lucky to have been taken in. Unn, the priestess before Sif, was a childhood friend of my mother’s. Otherwise I’d be lying in a pauper’s grave. If the dedication had been left to my choosing, I would still have chosen it. Is it really so different from your own life?”

Thor thought of his life. His childhood had been happy, but as a younger son, he had always known that there was no place for him in his family’s home, that he would become a warrior in order to support himself. Was his vow of dedication to Freya really so different from hers, after all? Neither had ever known anything else.

“No, perhaps not,” he said softly.


	3. Lord Sølvgren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Putting the plan into action!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tickled by the response so far, I hope everyone continues to enjoy this! This is the end of the set-up, porn will commence tomorrow. :)

_Tapestries_ , Loki decided. He so often spun lies, it was only fitting that his false offerings be woven. And while they might make the Folkvang halls more attractive, he couldn’t see any way they would really affect the war. He cast his mind back through his life, grabbing at random falsehoods and pulling the threads into the present. “I love you, father,” became a silver thread, sparkling and bright. “I am so big enough to play,” a sharp yellow. “I don’t care, anyway,” made piles upon piles of dark, bitter, red, so much of it that there was no doubt but that this tapestry would show a bloody scene indeed.

He worked on and on, more lies becoming more colors until his floor was covered in spools of thread, the smooth ice barely visible. He spoke a loom into being, and the threads jumped up, eager to form warp and weft at his command, to dive together until he had created a tapestry. He held it up and looked at it critically. It showed the middle of Grendel’s attack of Heorot; the left side of the tapestry showed sleeping warriors slumped over the tables of the great hall, while the right side of the tapestry showed the dead bodies of those already killed by the monster. Perhaps not the most fitting thing to be offered at a temple dedicated to love, but he thought it would suit Freya rather well. Satisfied, he folded it and set it aside.

It took a while to think of a good name to use. It needed to be fairly pleasant to the mortals without being too saccharine for his own taste, and the options were limited. Something he would like to hear panted from the lips of the new hierodore. He finally settled on Sølvgren. _Silver branch_ was an easy enough step from _Silvertongue_ , without being too obvious.

He undressed in front of his mirror. What would this Lord Sølvgren look like? He wanted a simple glamor, something that wouldn’t take much bother to maintain, so his height and build would stay the same. He was tall for the mortals, anyway, which would be an enjoyable change, and while his build might be on the slender side, it wouldn’t make him stand out. He couldn’t part with his hair, either. Most of the Jötnar grew hair so spartan and dull that it was simply kept shaven; Loki loved flaunting his around the court, leaving it long and free. It would look common enough on Midgard, though, that it wouldn’t interfere with his disguise. So. It was just skin and eyes that had to be decided.

He shifted through a range of skin colors, trying on everything he’d seen on both people in Orfjara and the devotees that visited its temple. He settled on a pale shade that he had seen on a visitor from the far north. It was lighter than most of the Orfjarans, but not too much so, and he found he preferred the thought of looking like a member of a jotun-worshipping northern tribe. If it glowed against his black hair like the moon in the night sky, well, that was simply coincidence.

Eye color was easier. Once, a century or so ago, he had gone for a visit to one of the altars used by the Fosna to make offerings to the Jötnar. He found there a young woman, carefully washing the surface of the stone where a bird had soiled it. She had nearly fainted in surprise when he dropped his invisibility while standing on top of it, but once she recovered herself, she had been delightfully bold in her request for a special blessing from the god. She had been bold in receiving it, as well, her piercing green eyes staring into his as he drove into her against the wet stone. He smiled at his reflection as his red eyes shifted to the same light but brilliant shade.

He quickly assumed garments that spoke of quiet quality, things that would not be likely to attract bandits - they would be easily dealt with, but it could hardly be done without attracting unwanted attention - but speaking of enough wealth to make him a welcome visitor to the temple, even before his offering had been inspected. Black trousers and boots, with a white tunic tied shut with dark green laces. Yes, he did look _quite_ well indeed. After what he’d seen of some of the devotees recently, his looks would make him as welcomed by the hierodores as his wealth would make him by the priestess.

Then it was time to go. It was mid-morning on Midgard, and he had chosen as his arrival point a forest about two hours’ ride from Orfjara. It would get him to the temple at a time when the hierodores were likely to be unengaged, but not early enough to seem strange and overeager. A slight gesture opened the shadow door, and he walked through it, out into the shadow of a tree near the edge of the forest.

After looking around to confirm that no one was in sight, he waved his hands again and had before him a horse, one that was refined without being overly showy. It carried two saddle bags with everything a travelling lord might need, money, letters of reference, a change of clothes, some food and a skin of water, a few throwing daggers.

The sun was almost unbearably hot on the unshaded road, and Loki was glad for the Midgardian skin. As a jotun, he would have been sickened in such weather. Even like this, he was quite glad when he turned the final bend into Orfjara, and pulled up at the inn just as the innkeeper’s wife came out to take his horse’s reins and offer him a mug of beer.

He drank it, grateful it wasn’t mead - how such sweetness could be used to conquer thirst, he never understood - and was pleased to find it cooler than he had hoped.

“It’s cold,” he said, surprised.

“There’s an underground stream that runs through one edge of the cellar,” she answered. “We keep a keg in it when the heat rises like it is today.”

“I expect that makes you very popular.”

“That it does, my lord. Will you be staying in town? If I may be so forthright, our rooms are plain, but they are clean and quiet.”

“That will serve me well,” Loki said, handing her the empty mug and swinging out of his saddle. “I will be here one night.”

“You are most welcome. If you would care to wait in the public room, I’ll see your horse to the stable boy and be back to show you to your chamber.”

Loki took his saddle bags and went inside. The public room itself was much the way she had described the bedrooms, and he was well pleased. She was with him quickly, leading him up the stairs and to a room at the back of the inn - “Where the street noise won’t bother you,” she said - and he set his things down on the small table that was pushed against the wall.

“This will serve me well, thank you. What do I owe you?”

“It’s three eighths for the night, my lord. Another two with supper and breakfast included.”

“I won’t be needing supper, but breakfast would do me well.” Loki pulled a whole solidi from his pocket and presented it to her. He did not plan to be back, quite a bit, but just in case, it was best to ensure a continued welcome. From the smile she gave him, he would have it.

“My thanks…”

“Lord Sølvgren,” he said.

“My thanks, Lord Sølvgren. I am Ulla, if you have need of anything.” She bobbed a curtsy and excused herself. 

Loki looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. His clothes were nearly plastered to him with sweat, though it was beginning to dry now that he was in the shade. He thought briefly of asking for a bath, but decided against taking the time for it. A pass of a seiðr-streaming hand over himself, and he was dry and ready to go. With a deep breath, he turned his steps to the road leading to the temple. The houses were packed tightly together, and more than once he had to stand aside to make room for someone on a horse to pass, glad that they seemed to have come up with a better sanitation system than simply throwing their waste in the streets, as had been the practice during his last visit to Midgard. The temple stood on the far side of town, a star-shaped building with one arm open, steps leading down to the street, while the rest was enclosed within a high wall.

A servant stood at the top of the steps, waiting to greet devotees as they arrived.

As Loki approached, the man bowed to him.

“My lord,” he said, “welcome to the temple. May I ask if you have visited us before?”

“No,” answered Loki. “Not this one, though I have been to others.” With all his spying, it wouldn’t do to get caught being overly familiar with their practices if he was thought to be visiting for the first time.

The man bowed again. “Then I will escort you to our priestess for welcome.”

Loki followed him inside, grateful for the cool shade. The streets had been too tight to allow much air, and the tapestry hung hot on his arm. They walked through the center section of the building, past its gigantic statue of Freya, and turned down one of the halls that extended to the side, stopping at the first door. It stood half-open, but the servant knocked anyway. Hearing a voice answer, he opened it for Loki and then, bowing, closed it behind him.

“How do you do, my lord?” she asked. “I am the temple priestess, Sif. You have come to pay your respects to our lady?”

Loki was glad he’d watched this scene play out with other visitors, because the thought of _him_ paying respects to Freya made it difficult to keep a straight face.

“I have,” he said. “I brought this tapestry as an offering.”

Sif rose and shook it out, her eyes widening slightly at the quality of the weaving and the amount of precious silver and gold threads that were used to decorate the border.

“This is a most generous offering,” she murmured. “I thank you on behalf of our lady, Lord…”

“Lord Sølvgren. I... may I ask,” he said hesitantly, playing the part of the nervous, curious visitor to the hilt, “I’ve always wondering how the pyre works. Do you think the offerings really reach the goddess?”

Loki knew, of course, that they did, but he could not figure out the _how_. Freya kept large swaths of Volkvangr shielded from his view. It was a long shot, but if this Sif knew anything…

“I do believe it,” she answered. “The smoke of the pyre rises to her and gladdens her heart.” She smiled at him, a faithful priestess trying to reassure someone who struggled with doubt.

Damn. She knew even less than he did. Well, at least it wouldn’t be a wasted visit.

“May I ask if there is anyone in particular from whom you would like to receive our thanks for your offering? Any preferences, that I might suggest you a hierodore?”

“There was someone I heard talk of, a few towns over, as I traveled,” he answered, the carefully-planned claim sliding easily from his lips. “A tall golden man, a warrior until the truce took hold.”

“Thor,” she answered, obviously pleased that his appeal was such as to draw someone as wealthy as Lord Sølvgren.

“Thor, yes, that was it,” he answered as though it had been in the back of his memory. “Would he possibly be available for the whole day?”

“I’m sure of it,” she answered, going to the door and gesturing for a servant.


	4. A Rather Pleasant Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki puts his plan into action, with enjoyable results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go with the porn! Apparently I use a lot of run-on sentences when I write about sex. Who knew?
> 
> Enjoy.

Thor was trying to stay cool in the breezy shade, chafing at the still-unfamiliar idleness, when a servant informed him that his presence was requested by Sif. It was early in the day for a devotee to arrive, and he wondered if she wanted to rearrange her chambers yet again. It seemed that no more than three days managed to pass before she wanted all her bookcases and her desk moved around, always as far as possible from their original positions. He didn’t mind it, as some might have, glad for the opportunity to work his muscles. He was starting to suspect that this, rather than inconstancy, was the reason for her unceasing requests, but it wouldn’t do to let on. She was kind, but preferred to maintain a brisk and efficient demeanor unless she was in her cups. (She did tell the most raucously vulgar jokes after indulging, and the hierodores were constantly egging her on to have just a little more mead, though they were seldom successful.)  So he went to her assistance, and was in the middle of a particularly good - if not particularly dignified - stretch for his arms as he entered the chambers, to find her not alone, after all.

 She was seated at her desk, facing the door, and there was a dark-haired man sitting, facing her. Thor dropped his arms quickly, but the man must have seen him in the mirror in the corner, because his eyes met Thor’s in their reflection and he smirked. Thor groaned inwardly as the man, still smiling, twisted in his chair.  _And what a man to embarrass himself in front of_ , Thor thought.  He generally preferred women, though he’d certainly served enough of both since arriving at the temple, but this man was simply captivating. His skin was like marble, the cheekbones sharply chiseled, and the lips, though thin, looked like they were absolutely made for kissing. Thor had seen an emerald once, as it shone from the countess’ finger, a tiny spark of green fire. This man’s eyes were just as green, though much lighter, and they bore the same spark within them.

 “Thor, I would like to introduce you to Lord Sølvgren, who has requested your company for the day,” Sif said.

 _That_ was unusual. Visitors certainly asked for whole days often enough, but it was quite rare that Sif deemed their offerings to be of sufficient value to gain them more than a few hours.

 Thor bowed his head. “My lord, I am honored.”  

 “The pleasure is mutual,” Lord Sølvgren returned smoothly. His face was neutral, but Thor thought he could spy just a twinkle of mirth in those green eyes, hinting that the suggestive phrasing was very much intentional.

 Sif gave them a businesslike smile, as though she had not noticed the double entendre. _Fat chance_ , thought Thor.

 “My chambers are this way, my lord,” he said, gesturing with his left arm and waiting politely for Lord Sølvgren to go first. They walked in silence down the hall, Thor taking the chance to admire the slender figure before him.Watching him walk was a thing of beauty; he moved like a cat, all slender sinew and power, so different from Thor’s brawn but equally full of promise. It was proving to be an interesting day.

 Thor got lost in admiration just a little too long, and had to shamefacedly call the lord back to the door he’d just passed. Lord Sølvgren gave him a feral, knowing grin as he walked past Thor who held open the door, face burning.

 He hurried inside, shutting the door and throwing the simple lock. Lord Sølvgren was looking at the small shelf that held his treasures: the toy horse his mother had made for him as a child - she’d misread the pattern and somehow given the creature eight legs, but little Thor had loved Sleipnir the moment he saw him; a seashell his father brought back from a long journey; the small spear his sister had given him at her wedding, before she moved away forever. Thor could barely remember Hlin, he had been so young when she married, but Baldr had kept her memory alive for his little brother. Thor barely stopped himself from saying anything as the lord’s hand reached up to pick up the last thing on the shelf, Thor’s book. Lord Sølvgren held it carefully, cradled in one hand as he turned the pages with the other before looking up.

 “You can read?” he asked, surprised.

 “A little. I used to sneak in when my brother was having lessons, but he is enough older than me that much of it was too complex.”

 “Your brother was tutored, but you weren’t? Why?”

 It wasn’t the first time Thor had been asked the question, but where it was so often dismissive, Lord Sølvgren seemed to be genuinely interested.

 “He was being trained to inherit the estate,” Thor said simply. “The land is well enough for one man and his family, but we always knew there was no place for me there, so I was raised to be a warrior. When I reached adolescence, I was placed with Jarl Torkelin to train to join his troops.”

 “Mmm. I, too, am a younger son.” It was blurted, impulsive, as though the lord was taking a risk in sharing something of himself. Thor was grateful. He knew his place here, but he did still prefer to be treated as an actual person, rather than as a mere tool for someone else’s pleasure.

 “Then we have something in common.” Thor smiled. “May I offer you some refreshment? Wine, perhaps? Or we have water with mint, which is most refreshing on days like today.”

 “Nothing, thank you.” Lord Sølvgren continued looking through the book, and Thor waited, growing awkward as he wondered what he was supposed to do with a lover who seemed more interested in reading. Time passed. A bird outside called in a rough voice. Somewhere there was water dripping, the sound rapidly growing maddening. His toe itched. It took every ounce of self-control for Thor to avoid fidgeting. Finally, the lord closed the slender volume and put it back on the shelf.

 “Your book is beautifully made,” he said softly. “As are you.”

 He stepped over to Thor and placed a cool hand on the suddenly burning cheek, running his thumb lightly along his eyebrow. They contemplated each other a moment before the hand slid behind his neck and pulled him in. _I’ve never kissed someone my own height before_ , Thor thought dimly, just before their lips met and drove all thought from his mind.

 Lord Sølvgren moved with rapturous slowness. Their lips rubbed lightly together, grabbing and letting go and grabbing again, so light it could almost be ticklish. His hand caressed Thor’s face before moving downward to feel the pulse thudding in Thor’s throat, to stroke the hollow just under Thor’s jaw, lightly teasing the delicate skin. A soft moan escaped Thor’s throat as he felt a tongue press gently against his lips, and he parted them to deepen their kiss. Even that was light and unhurried, their tongues stroking and feeling each other. Lord Sølvgren’s tasted faintly of Ulla’s light summer beer, pleasant wheat and fruity hops. Thor grew drowsy with desire as Lord Sølvgren ran his hand further back, drawing little circles on the nape of his neck. Then Thor’s hands were tangled in Lord Sølvgren’s hair, the inky locks impossibly silken against his fingers as they grasped and explored and pulled him closer.

 As though he were waiting for this, Lord Sølvgren surged forward, pressing himself against Thor, and Thor could feel their erections pressed together through their clothes, and then he was twisting and rubbing them together, chests heaving as one as they struggled for sufficient breath. He brought his hands forward to unlace the neck of the lord’s tunic, tugging the cloth upwards in a desperate hurry. Lord Sølvgren released his hold and their lips parted as the tunic was slipped off and tossed away.

 Then they were both bare to the waist, bodies crushed back together, hands running everywhere. Even on such a hot day, even with his need as evident as Thor’s own, his body felt cool, his sleek muscles so cool under Thor’s hands as he ran them all over the lord’s back, down to the trim waist and back up the graceful widening of the ribcage. Cool hands moved more slowly on Thor’s own back, kneading the coiled strength, easing out the tension even as they amplified the desire.

 Thor had no idea how long they stood like that, kissing and growing familiar with each other’s bodies, before he felt hands on the tie of his kilt, working unsuccessfully with the knot. Thor liked to put difficult knots in his kilt, make it difficult for the devotees who sought his services, let them know that he was not to be had without a modicum of effort. Of course, his kilt was easily enough shoved out of the way, but he took those few small things he could have and guarded them. But now he just wanted it off, the unwanted separation out of the way. He smiled into their kiss as his deft fingers unworked the intricate weave, and then it was off and away and Lord Sølvgren’s hands were running down, down his ass to his thighs and back again, feeling everywhere before he gripped Thor’s ass firmly, fingertips digging into the round swells of his cheeks as he pulled Thor’s body back against his own.

 Thor likewise worked his hands downward, glad to find that the tight black breeches that were now the only barrier between them had two sets of lacings over the hips, rather than a single, central lacing, and even more glad that these ties were knotted simply enough to undo them with one hand each. He tugged at the knots until he felt them give, and reluctantly broke off their kiss to kneel and pull the breeches downward, quickly unlacing the short boots as he knelt.

 Lord Sølvgren stepped out of them and Thor shoved them aside, letting his hot breath tease over the gorgeous cock that jutted before him. He watched as it responded, bouncing slightly, a thin, creamy drop appearing at the tip. Thor leaned forward to dip his tongue in it, staring Lord Sølvgren in the eyes as he leaned back, letting it form a long, thin thread between them. He’d never been with another man before coming to work in the temple, and he’d been surreptitiously picking up tips in the meal hall ever since, too self-conscious to ask for advice but glad to get it when he could. This was a new trick he’d just heard a few days ago, and was curious to see what the response would be.

It was good. It was very good indeed. Lord Sølvgren held their eye contact as he inhaled sharply, letting Thor see his eyes darken with lust as his hand tightened on Thor’s shoulder. He kept leaning back until it broke, a delicate strand of silver falling down Thor’s chin and chest. He stared up, unblinking, as he brought up one hand to rub it roughly into his skin. That was his own addition, and it was as well received as he could possibly have hoped. Lord Sølvgren’s breath hissed as he drew it in through clenched teeth, and Thor felt his own want grow demanding, insistent, in response. He was half afraid that the lord would keep him like this, to take his pleasure in Thor’s mouth and leave him unfulfilled, but then his hands were on him, tugging him upward.

 “I can’t deny that you look nearly irresistible like that, but this floor does not seem like it would be pleasant to kneel on for long. And I intend to take long.” His soft, honeyed voice was thick now, almost harsh with want, and Thor felt it deep in his belly.

 He was exploring Thor’s throat, planting wet, open-mouthed kisses all over his neck, down his chest and onto his shoulders, biting softly as if to test the muscles that lay tense beneath the skin. He licked the soft depression just behind Thor’s earlobe, and it sent a jolt of pure lust driving through him as his body weakened against Lord Sølvgren’s.

 “Mmm, you like that,” he murmured, lips caressing Thor’s skin as he spoke. “Do you like the other side just as much?” He kissed his way around to Thor’s other ear, and purred again as he found that Thor did, indeed, like it just as much. Thor was almost lost in the sensation, but not so much that he didn’t miss the way his legs were beginning to tremble, and he roused himself enough to tug gently on Lord Sølvgren’s arm, guiding him towards the bed.  

 He sank down and slid to the far side, making room to share. It was spacious enough to comfortably hold three (he’d been told, though not experienced it himself yet), and Thor liked the simple wrought iron of the head and foot boards, the way they were carefully designed to give supports to hold onto or brace against without looking _too_ obviously intended for a hierodore’s bed. The lord stood a moment, his hooded eyes staring at Thor hungrily, before he gracefully lowered himself down on his side.

 Thor pressed a careful hand on the pale shoulder that jutted up, all stark angles. Not a demand, Thor wouldn’t dare do that, but a suggestion. Lord Sølvgren had obviously brought a handsome offering for Freya, and Thor wanted to be sure that this day proved to be well worth it. He held himself over the slender figure below him, exploring with hands and lips, searching for where the lord liked to be touched. Thor found them all over, where the skin was softest: on his sides just below his ribcage,  in the hollows of his hipbones, the underside of his arms, just above the crook of his elbow. He _really_ liked that last one, his hand clasping the back of Thor’s head and murmuring his name as Thor ran his tongue in long strokes along his arm, before pulling Thor’s mouth to his own and murmuring to him.

 “On your hands and knees for me.”

 Thor’s pulse raced as he shifted to the side and watched the whipcord body, already growing familiar yet still excitingly new, lift up and move behind him. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on relaxing. This was definitely not his favorite part of things. He liked what led up to it, and a few minutes in to being taken, once he was stretched out, it became enjoyable. He wished, though, that he could cut out the middle. Being quickly oiled and breached was distinctly unpleasant, the way it burned as he was entered, before he had the chance to adjust. And Lord Sølvgren’s cock was noticeably larger than any he’d had before.  _Calm, be calm, it’s all right,_ he told his tight ring of muscle as it tensed at the sound of elegant fingers dipping into the bowl of oil at his bedside. _Calm, calm_.

 But then the discomfort didn’t come. Instead, he felt a gentle fingertip drawing long lines, from his back to his balls and then his back again. Thor’s body eased under the careful touch, and stayed relaxed as the path being drawn slowly shortened, then rounded, until it was making little circles, following the edge of the ring. His breath hitched when he felt the finger go still and press gently at the center, but it was the pad then, not the tip, and it wasn’t trying to enter. He relaxed again, this was rather nice. He didn’t realize quite how nice he thought it was until it was suddenly gone and he whimpered at the loss.

 Then it was back, wetter, and this time it was pressing in, so slowly, just a knuckle at a time, each time waiting for Thor’s body to ease before going further. By the time it was fully in, Thor was groaning and pressing back against it. He groaned again as Lord Sølvgren began to move it inside him, twisting and curling, before withdrawing. Thor arched his back in expectation, _yes_ , no one had given him that sort of attention before and it was so good, and he was ready.

So he really wasn’t expected it when, instead of Lord Sølvgren’s cock, he felt only fingers again. Two, this time, working into him with the same delicious slowness, knuckle by knuckle, the stretch snug but blissful, and when they started to slide back and forth, Thor’s hips matched them. At first they stayed close together, but then the motion changed, and they were tight togther as they slid in, and then twisted and opened as they pulled back, and it burned, but only slightly, and less each time, until the burn was gone and left only burning need in its place.

 Thor turned his head to look back at Lord Sølvgren, rising up behind him, face taut with concentration, his attention fixed on where his fingers were so expertly working, and Thor felt he could almost come simply from the intensity in the penetrating green eyes. Surely, surely, he would take Thor now, now that his gaze was moving to Thor’s face, his attention raking over the desperate need he saw there, smile sharpening with promise of things to come. Which turned out to be a third finger. Thor moaned in pleasure and frustration. It was so good, and so not what he wanted.

 His head fell forward as he began to pant with need, bracing his arms before him as it became more difficult just to hold himself up. And then he was empty, and then he was being so gloriously, perfectly filled, Lord Sølvgren easing into him inch by inch, letting him adjust each time, until he was in Thor to the hilt, his cool hands holding Thor open before him. He stayed still a moment, as though waiting. Thor nodded his head, _yes, I’m ready_ , and then he was being fucked, and  _gods_ , it was intense and sublime so that he almost laughed at his own surprise,  _yes, this is how it is supposed to be_. The cock inside him felt huge, so much larger than any he’d taken before, and it was so so tight a fit, yet it gave him nothing but pleasure after the careful preparation.

 They sped up at Thor’s own pace, set by the thrusts of his hips, begging out loud now,  _more, more, faster_ , and the hands crept down to hold on to his hips, adding Lord Sølvgren’s own strength to Thor’s movements, pulling him back harder and harder as their bodies slammed together, the room full of the sounds of oil and sweat and heavy, desperate breathing. Then the hands moved further still, the fingers of one splayed across his abdomen, fingers biting into the muscle as Lord Sølvgren continued to pull Thor back, and the other wrapped around his own cock, and everything that had been was as nothing next to this. Thor moved frantically, all rhythm lost as he drove forward into the snug fist wrapped around him, then thrust back onto the cock that filled him so deeply, and Lord Sølvgren was whispering to him, y _es, Thor, you’re so tight, you feel amazing, yes,_ and he could barely breathe, and barely see, and this was all there was, Lord Sølvgren’s hand around him and his cock inside him and he wanted it more, more, harder,  _please, yes.._.

 Thor’s orgasm, when it came, was like a force of nature, bolts of white streaking as he shouted and bucked wildly. It seemed to go on forever, and Lord Sølvgren was driving so hard into him now, pressing over and over against that sweet spot, and then he felt himself flooded with the lord’s own pleasure, felt it spurting in time with Thor’s own, and oh gods, that was almost enough to make him come again, but it was over, and he was relaxing back into the mattress. Lord Sølvgren did look _quite_ pleased with himself, but Thor could hardly blame him, especially as Thor was quite pleased with him as well.

 Thor liked how Lord Sølvgren’s hair looked, all messed up, as he shifted over to collapse on the pillow next to him. All the effort he must have put into taming it was utterly ruined, as unruly black curls spilled over his shoulders, framing his face like a dark halo.

 They lay together, catching their breath and touching gently, until Thor’s stomach growled, very abruptly, and very loudly. He began to gasp an apology - such needs were not supposed to intrude on a devotee’s time - but Lord Sølvgren just rolled his eyes.

 “If you need something to eat, you should have it, Thor,” he laughed. “I’m not really sure what else can be expected of you. Did you even get lunch?”

 “I didn’t,” Thor realized.

 “Go get something, then. It’s all right.”

 “I thank you. May I bring you anything?”

 “Only if it doesn’t mean taking from another.”

 Thor shook his head. “We always buy extra, just in case. Whatever isn’t eaten is given as alms, if any beggars come, otherwise it means we have stale bread for breakfast.”

 Lord Sølvgren bowed his head and spoke graciously. “Then I will spare you such a fate.”

 Thor smiled and rose to throw on a robe.

 “Oh, Thor?”

 He turned back to the bed.

 “Perhaps a change of linens? I doubt we want to have to contort ourselves later to avoid this,” he said, gesturing at the sizeable patch of oil and spend where Thor had been.

 Thor felt his face flush as he nodded and left quickly.

 He found a tray in the kitchen and loaded it with light foods, chosen to satisfy without undue heaviness. A loaf of bread and knife, a soft crumbly cheese that smelled enticingly tangy, and a pile of the last juicy strawberries of the year. A jug of minted water and two goblets completed the meal. He left it on the table as he found fresh linens, and then, loaded down, he headed back to his room, glad to not be passing anyone in the hall.

 Lord Sølvgren was sitting at the table, nude, feet up on the second chair and his cock, softened now but still at its fullest length, draped casually over his thigh. He straightened as Thor set the tray down before him, scooting the spare chair out with his foot for Thor to sit. Thor put the sheets on a dry corner of the bed and sat down to a late lunch. He’d forgotten plates, but decided he was too hungry to care, as they both dug in, leaning forward for their crumbs to drop onto the tray. Meal finished, they sat back to sip at their cups of water.

 Thor tried desperately to think of something to talk about. Lord Sølvgren just watched him from behind the rim of his heavy gray mug.

 “The strawberries were good,” he offered lamely.

 “Mmmm,” Lord Sølvgren answered. Well, then. He wasn’t going to help make things easier. And was that a smirk in his eyes?

 “Perhaps I’ll just-” he gestured at the linens.

 “Mmmm.” Yes, that was definitely a smirk.

 Thor hurriedly changed the bed, searingly aware of how short his robe was as he leaned forward to tuck the corners into place. Could they really not have found him anything longer? He was sure even Herta’s robe was longer than this, and her head barely reached his chest.

 He turned back to Lord Sølvgren, unsure whether to sit at the table again or get back into bed. The dark head nodded at the chair, and he sat. He didn’t really feel like more sex again just yet, after eating, though he was quite sure he wanted more today. He had no idea what to talk about, though. Not fruit.

 “Tell me about your family’s estate?” Lord Sølvgren asked suddenly. “What was it like?”

 That, Thor could do. “It’s about four days’ walk east from here,” he began. “It is rockier, and more heavily forested, so there is less farming and more hunting than around Orfjara. A wide river runs near the house, and I wasn’t old enough to swim in it before I was sent away for training, but my great-grandfather had had a trench dug, so that there was an artificial stream to be used for bathing and play in summer.”

 “And you have an elder brother. Are there more than just the two of you?”

 “Baldr has a twin sister, Hlin. They are ten years older than me, so she wed when I was so small I can barely remember her. She gave me that spear as a parting gift, though,” he said, pointed upwards. “And Baldr told me stories so I wouldn’t forget her. Apparently she got into so much mischief, our parents began to fear no one would marry her.”

 Lord Sølvgren smiled at that. “I think I would like her,” he said.

 “I think you would.”

 “Was that how you passed your childhood, then? Swimming, and playing with your spear, and eavesdropping on your brother’s lessons?”

 “That, and learning to hunt, of course. Exploring in the woods, looking for dragons… whatever solitary children do, I suppose.”

 Lord Sølvgren made a tight smile.

 “And you, my lord? If I may ask?”

 His face gave way to a mask of blankness. “Oh, nothing so interesting,” he said. Thor doubted that very much indeed. He’d barely had five words his whole life with a noble before, and now here one was, not only speaking more kindly than most devotees bothered to do, but making the effort to be sure Thor enjoyed their encounter equally. Surely there was something interesting behind the inscrutable face, no matter what he said.

 Thor decided to just sit, silent, and let Lord Sølvgren do something if he wanted it. It was more than a little petulant, but every one of his efforts at conversation had been shot down, the lord’s responses like arrows from a crossbow.

 He stared at the ceiling for perhaps five minutes before a peal of laughter filled the room.

 “Fair enough.”

 Thor looked down, to find him grinning.

 “I merely wait for instructions, my lord,” he said mildly.

 “Like Hel you do.” His eyes gleamed with amusement. “All right, then. You want something to do. I am rather sore from days in the saddle, you may ease my aching muscles,” he said, loftily, flopping onto his stomach on Thor’s bed.

  _Like Hel you are_ , Thor thought back, and let the disbelief show on his face. Saddle-sore men most definitely did not move the way Lord Sølvgren had been. It was a blatantly transparent move, but as Thor looked at the languid body stretched out so invitingly, he decided he didn’t particularly care, so he settled above it, sitting lightly on the firm white buttocks.

 Thor lightly oiled his hands and set to work. He took one rather limp hand between his own, tugging gently on the fingers, pressing carefully between the delicate bones of the hand, tracing the lines of the palm with a firm thumb, then squeezing the wrist, fingers digging into the muscles as he worked up the arm. By the time he reached the shoulder, the whole arm felt like jelly. The second arm received the same treatment, and he shifted his focus to the torso.

 He ran his fingers up through Lord Sølvgren’s hair to press gentle circles into the scalp, earning himself some delighted purring in response. He stayed there a while before moving down to work at the tension in his neck and shoulders. Thor could actually _see_ these muscles relaxing, and felt pleased with himself. It wasn’t riding that was making Lord Sølvgren sore and tense, not when he carried it in his shoulders like this, but there was something, all the same.

 Thor worked his way slowly down the back, thumbs digging a chain of circles down either side of his spine and back up again. His broad hands kneaded over the shoulder blades, the ribs, the slender waist. When the whole upper body looked completely limp, Thor lifted himself just enough to turn and settle down in the same spot, facing Lord Sølvgren’s feet.

 He grasped the strong thighs in his hands, digging, stroking, and digging again, then tried digging his fingers into the shallows that defined the separation between muscles. That earned him a happy hum, so he continued it when he got to the calves, which he moved to quickly after discovering that Lord Sølvgren was apparently very ticklish behind his knees, and that he kicked and flailed when being tickled. He settled quickly once Thor got to his calves. Thor was glad, as he had to lean forward to reach them, putting his nose in dangerous proximity to a pair of very firm-looking heels. He worked his way down to the delicate ankles, pressing on either side of the Achilles tendon, squeezing circles into all the little hollows.

 He briefly considered the feet, but decided that they, too, were likely to be ticklish, and he didn’t relish the thought of his nose being bloodied or his eye blackened. Besides, it was obvious that Lord Sølvgren was _greatly_ enjoying how relaxed he was feeling now, and was not at all shy about expressing it through a series of moans, purrs, and utterly enchanting wiggling, and Thor’s own body was responding rapidly. So instead Thor shifted himself forward and down, and ran his tongue through the hollow on the inside of one ankle, just above the heel.

 It worked every bit as well as he’d hoped. It was met with a sharp intake of breath, followed by a carefully modulated voice.

 “Thor? You may finish now. That was reasonably satisfactory.”

 Thor grinned, shifting to one side as Lord Sølvgren rolled onto his back, cock springing free as it was released from its prison against the sheets. Thor’s own was swelling quickly. Lord Sølvgren watched it with a knowing smile.

 They moved more urgently this time, knowing now the depths of the pleasures that were in store for them. Greedy lips kissed desperately, greedy tongues licked hotly, greedy hands and fingers grabbed and pulled, until they were both panting with want, and Lord Sølvgren’s clever fingers were spreading Thor open, delving into him, to find that he was still stretched and slick, and Thor was groaning his readiness.

 Lord Sølvgren looked at him, wickedly, and set to working him with the oil again. Thor’s head was pressed into the white shoulder, hair clinging to his face with sweat, as slender fingers twisted and spread, and Thor  _needed, he needed so badly_ , and then he was empty and the lord was tugging at his hips.

 “Ride me,” he whispered, green eyes dark with a need that matched Thor’s own.

 Thor was not accustomed to having this level of control, especially not with a man, and he moved hesitantly, but Lord Sølvgren nodded at him, encouraging, and his own hunger drove him on as he took hold of the cock that jutted below him to hold it in place as he carefully, evenly, lowered himself onto it. He gasped and threw his head back as he felt himself be filled, eyes falling helplessly closed as he was nearly overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation. His chest had contracted until he could barely breathe, like the air had turned to honey. He took a moment to savor it before bringing his eyes forward. He wanted to see Lord Sølvgren’s face when he started moving.

 They were still a few seconds longer, just staring at each other and breathing.

 Thor swivelled his hips.

 It wasn’t much, only a small circle, but oh, it was glorious. He did it again, a little larger, and again, and again, faster, making the aching need that was already puddling low in his belly constrict into a tense ball of need. Thor was quite sure he could happily continue doing this, these delicious circles, for the rest of his life, but then Lord Sølvgren’s face was tense, teeth gritted and eyes squeezed tight, and with a sob of helplessness he drove up into Thor, and gods, the pressure was so perfect, perfect. Thor lifted up, only willing to lose that fullness because then he was lowering back down, and the feel of the thick cock as it slid in and out, relentless, was so, so good, and he could barely breathe and he could barely see and all he could feel was that glorious stretch and slide and he wanted, gods, he wanted this to last forever and he wanted to come, the need was eating him alive. He lost his rhythm as he fell forward to his hands on either side of the lovely face that was talking to him, he could barely even hear, he barely knew anything but his own desire but then the voice was there telling him how very good he felt, and how gorgeous he looked, wrecked like this, and he sobbed as a cool hand wrapped around his cock and he moved helplessly as it worked him and then he was coming, so, so hard, white streaks all over the white chest, look at that, yes, and then with a harsh noise, Lord Sølvgren bucked upward, and Thor felt him spending inside him as Thor’s ring grabbed at him, over and over, squeezing him into his own climax, their spills pulsing at the same time, until Thor collapsed down in a haze of delirious pleasure.

He simply breathed for a moment, unable to do or think anything more, and then, as he came down, realized that his entire body weight was pressed on top of Lord Sølvgren, who might be stronger than he looked, but he was still much smaller than Thor. Thor scooted off to the side with a look of apology, but it was just met with a lazy smile and heavy eyelids.

Thor wanted to talk, to say how much this unusual care meant to him, but words were not his domain at the best of times, and right now he wasn’t even sure he could move his lips, so he threw an arm across Lord Sølvgren’s chest with a happy hum, and hoped it was enough.

 When Thor could trust himself to move, he cleaned up where he had spilled all over the other man’s chest, gently wiping him off with a soft towel. He was halfway done when Lord Sølvgren dragged a finger through it and held it up to Thor’s lips. It seemed anything but appealing, but he certainly wasn’t about to deny him anything now. He leaned forward and took the finger between his lips, sucking and licking it clean before he moved away. It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t the sort of thing he’d be doing for fun anytime soon, either. - Until he saw the look, the fierce, satisfied look that burned in Lord Sølvgren’s eyes, and knew that there was one person whose fun he would do it for, after all.

 The time for Lord Sølvgren’s departure came too quickly, and he dressed with efficiency. One last deep, longing kiss, and he was reaching for the door. Thor impulsively took his arm. The lord looked at him, one eyebrow cocked.

 “My lord,” Thor began, suddenly feeling as though his stomach was filled with butterflies, “I would be most pleased to see you again, if your travels bring you back to Orfjara.”

The look he got in response made him wish they had another few hours.


	5. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor's hard-won peace, Loki's hard-won restraint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad people are enjoying this story! Now with 100% more delicious cake.

The mortal had proven himself to be quite amusing. Not just fucking him - Loki had already known how much he would enjoy sliding into that tight heat - but his character. He wasn’t particularly used to thinking of mortals as _having_ characters. Their lives were so brief, they barely had a chance to learn to walk before they were dead. It certainly didn't give them much time to develop a personality. But Thor did have one. Loki liked the way he managed to be respectful without being servile, how he came right to the edge of insolence but never quite treading upon it. Yes, it had proved to be a most diverting encounter.

 Loki liked to think about how long he spend looking at Thor’s book and how it made Thor nervous. He didn’t like it as much as he liked to think about fucking Thor, but it really doesn’t do to be single-minded. He was also quite partial to how Thor explored him, before they fucked, the way he took the time to find out exactly where Loki liked to be kissed and touched. Some of those places he’d never even realized, himself. That soft area on his arms… he felt himself stiffening just at the memory of Thor’s tongue as it gently stroked, almost-but-not-quite-ticklish on the delicate skin. 

 Nor could he deny how he loved the way Thor blushed at the simplest things, after the delightful acrobatics and contortions he had so happily participated in moments before. Or the look on Thor’s face as he sank down upon Loki. After he found out how little the priestess knew, he had thought that would be his only visit to the temple, expecting his desire for something new and exotic to be easily slaked. He was surprised, now, to find that it wasn’t. He liked _talking_ to him. How odd.

 And Thor did say he’d like to see Loki again.

 *****

 Sif had kept her promise to think on Thor’s restlessness, excusing him from service three mornings a week to train and keep his body in shape. Though few devotees came before the afternoon, hierodores were expected to be available in the mornings all the same. Her decision had received more than a few grumbles, and Thor found himself the target of glares from a few people, but it was well worth it.

 He lacked a sparring partner, but the pleasure of driving himself as hard as he could was blissful. He ran through the farmland, delighting in the feel of the firm ground under his feet, and gaining a new appreciation of the scenery outside Orfjara. He had seen little enough since his arrival. He found an empty field outside town, perfect for practicing with Mjölnir, reminding his muscles of the feel of carefully controlled swings and the ecstatic joy of hurling her at the targets he set up.

 This was not one of those days, though. For hours he had sat around, bored, before finally telling a servant that he could be found in the stables if he was needed. Of course, that was when someone arrived to request him. Thor received the summons to return to his chambers as he was currying Einjara, his favorite of the temple’s horses. All the horses here were too old to carry his weight, given to the temple to aid in the fields and with light chores, but it was a pleasure simply to care for her. Einjara never tired of his stories of battles, things the other hierodores seemed to not want to hear, for all their politeness. And what else did Thor know in life, to talk about?

 His heart skipped a beat as he entered his room to see Lord Sølvgren standing idly, waiting for him. Thor smiled, glad to see him, and the lord’s own face reflected his pleasure.

 “My lord,” Thor bowed. “It is an honor to see you again.”

 “Thor,” Lord Sølvgren nodded.

 Thor fidgeted, suddenly shy. “Can I bring you any refreshment?” he asked.

 “Yes,” Lord Sølvgren said, almost impulsively, as if he had been about to refuse. “Some wine, if you have it. Beer, if not.”

 Thor was quickly back with a pitcher of wine and cups, and he poured for them. They drank in silence. The silence grew more comfortable the more Thor drank, so he indulged a bit more than was his habit.  Lord Sølvgren seemed to be drinking quickly, as well, he noticed.

 The lord stood abruptly and walked about the room, looking at the small hanging on one wall, roughly embroidered to depict Odin and Freya walking among the dead, choosing souls. Looking up, out the high window, watching the birds in the upper branches of a tree. Twisting Hlin’s spear between his fingers.

 “You asked me about my own childhood, before. I… I would have enjoyed being a solitary child, I think. My father’s palace was full, but I was born small, and never grew into what the court would have me be. But that’s enough of that,” he finished hurriedly. “It was long ago, and it is still dull.”

 Thor looked at the body before him, tall and lean and filled with taut power, and couldn’t begin to imagine what the lord’s people looked like, if this was considered small and unsatisfactory. They must be of a far-off land indeed, for the people to be so differently formed; the lord was Thor’s own height, and he had rarely seen a man equal to him before, and never a taller one. He might be slender, but he was still one of the most physically powerful men Thor had ever seen, as well as the single most beautiful. 

 Thor hadn’t even known that his gaze was turning hungry until he looked up and saw Lord Sølvgren’s face like a mirror of his own. Their clothes were tugged off and discarded almost before Thor realized they were moving towards one another. They put the results of their previous explorations to good use, the lord’s mouth diving for the spot behind Thor’s ear as Thor tugged the pale arm to his own mouth and sent his hands to glide between ribs and hips, catching all those delicate sensitive areas that lay between them. 

 He looked up at the face that hovered over his, wholly eager.

 “May I try something?”

 Thor hadn’t expected the question, but after the delicious things Lord Sølvgren had done to him last time, he wasn’t about to say no now. “Anything,” he breathed.

 The thin lips quirked in a smile. “That’s awfully trusting,” he said.

 “Is it?” Thor asked. “I don’t think I care. After the last time you were here… well, there’s never been anything like that, before or since. If I seem eager to please you now, it is out of both fairness and desire.”

 “Have you any soft ropes, or the like?”

 Thor thought a moment, and jumped up. He had quickly regretted complaining about the shortness of his robe, as he kept finding more and more robes, each one shorter than the last, left outside his door in the middle of the night to the sound of hushed giggling. At last count, he had thirty-eight. Their ties might do, he thought, as he rummaged through his closet to pull them out.

 “Perfect,” said Lord Sølvgren, his eyes glowing as Thor offered them.

 He eased Thor onto his back, drawing his hands up to the bedposts and tying them there, wrapping the belts around his wrist twice before tying the knot, so Thor’s skin would have a cushion against the metal. It was completely new to Thor, and he would have grown anxious but for the gentleness of the cool hands as they moved over him, sliding a pillow under his hips before tying his ankles down as well.

 “All right?” Lord Sølvgren smiled down at him. He looked at once tender and predatory, and Thor shuddered in anticipation of all the things that smile promised.

 “All right,” he answered.

 Then the hands were all over him, mouth kissing him everywhere it could reach, and he wanted to do the same but he was trapped, limbs tugging helplessly at his bonds as his body fought to grab at the body that hovered over him, wanting it.

 “Shh, just relax, Thor,” he said. “Trust me?”

 _Trust me._ How haunted his eyes looked as he said that. That was what he wanted here, more than the sex, even. His first visit, he had proven himself to be a kind but private man, one who didn’t open himself easily to others. Yet today he had spoken enough to give Thor a glimpse of a terribly unhappy childhood, an unhappiness that spilled over into the rest of his life, of the burden of being unwanted. And then he trusted Thor enough to tell him of this.  _How very alone he must be,_ Thor thought, _alone in a way I can’t imagine. So if this trust is the way for me to ease that, even for just a little while, I am grateful to give it._

 “It’s not fear,” he managed to stammer. “Merely my wish to touch you as you are me. I feel selfish, to not respond and match you.”

 The worried face relaxed. “There will be plenty of time for that,” he said.

 Thor smiled his acceptance. Lord Sølvgren set to work, then, touching and kissing and caressing Thor _everywhere,_ and Thor still felt selfish but then he quit caring as he watched slim fingers dipping into his bowl of oil and reach between his legs. All the careful preparation that he had only felt, before, he now got to watch on the lovely face before him. The focused attention as it watched his ring of muscle slowly relax against the easy pressure of a fingertip. The satisfaction when Thor gasped as it slid gently in. The gratification as Thor moaned when he was penetrated by two fingers. The growing heat when Thor bucked upon being breached by a third. The desire that consumed him as Thor began to pant as he was entered by a fourth. And then he was rising up, and oiling his cock, and then he was easing into Thor, and Thor watched his face the whole time, the near-pained look of concentration as he watched the supine body welcome his own.

 “Oh, yes, my lord,” Thor gasped. He had to quell his own pleasure just a bit in order to focus on making actual words, but it brought a smile to the face above him, so it was well worth it.

 Not that his pleasure could be so denied for long. Yet he was still gasping nearly the same things as Lord Sølvgren drove into him, alternating between slow, shallow strokes and deep, abrupt ones, and showering Thor with kisses the whole time. Thor wasn’t even aware of breaking his bonds, but then his hands were on that pale, perfect ass, pulling him in harder, fingers digging into living marble.

 Thor was drawing so, so close, and he bucked frantically, trying to pull that magnificent cock deeper, thrilling as his own was trapped and worked between their stomachs, so close, yes, and then-

 “Come for me, Thor,” Lord Sølvgren said through gritted teeth, and he was coming, his vision filled with white, white fire billowing out from his center to fill his skin until his body was made of flame as he moaned and gasped and panted with want, want for this to never end, want for Lord Sølvgren, want for nothing else to exist but for this moment to be stretched into eternity, and then he felt himself being filled as the lord’s own pleasure spilled within him.

 Lord Sølvgren had collapsed on top of him, Thor’s hands making long, gentle strokes down his back.

 “I’m sorry I broke my arms away,” he said when he could speak. “I didn’t mean to spoil things. I don’t even really remember doing it.”

 He felt the cool face break into a smile against his throat.

 “Don’t worry, it was nice. Though I’ll remember to make more passes before tying off, next time,” he said, before falling asleep.

 It felt strange, Thor thought, having someone sleep on top of him like this. Soft, affectionate. He couldn’t actually breathe very well, but it was worth it. He gave a few more passes with his hands, afraid that an abrupt halt might wake the exhausted body above him, before coming to rest gently over the waist.

 *****

 Loki woke slowly, like swimming up from the bottom of a lake of honey. He was draped over Thor, Thor’s hands about his waist. He tilted his head back and peeled one eye open, to see Thor looking back at him, eyes soft and warm.

 “Mmm, I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

 “Please don’t apologize. I liked it.”

 Loki eased off to fall onto the mattress at Thor’s side, leaving an arm and leg draped over him, nuzzling his shoulder.

 “Though, now that you’re awake, perhaps you could release my ankles?”

 Damn. Loki had not meant to leave him like that for so long. He moved quickly to untie them, glad to feel that they were still warm and responsive, that the long restraint had not interfered with his circulation.

 “Don’t let me fall asleep like that again, with you still tied,” he said. “It could cause damage if left too long or too tight.”

 “I liked how it felt, you sleeping on me,” Thor said, his own voice still slightly thick with pleasure. “But I’ll make sure my limbs are free first, in the future, my lord.”

 Loki lay back down next to Thor, chin tucked against his shoulder. “You may call me Loki, when we are alone together,” he offered cautiously.

 Thor’s eyes widened. “Then you _do_ come from far away, to be from people who worship the Jötnar.”

 Loki stiffened. “Is that a problem?”

 Warm hands rubbed gently over his suddenly tense muscles. “No, not for me, it isn’t. There are some here for whom it would be, and I do think you are wise to be careful who you tell, but-” Thor’s voice dropped to a whisper, even though he knew well that only raised voices could be heard through his door, “sometimes I think perhaps the Jötnar are in the right.” 

Oh, that _was_ interesting. Loki’s mind flashed to thoughts of taking Thor back to Jotunheim, the way Thor would look swathed in furs, the way Thor would look when Loki heated his room and Thor removed his furs. He would not be a palace courtesan, oh no, he would be all Loki’s, warming Loki’s bed, gracing Loki’s chambers alone with his beauty.  Loki arched an eyebrow, silently encouraging him to continue.

 “Well… look, you know I came here from serving as a warrior for the Jarl Torkelin.” Loki nodded. “There’s a truce now, but we were at war for six years straight, with the King of Jutland, because the King’s forces had seiged and taken a far outpost of the Jarl’s land. It was one that had only a token defense because peace had held so long. It took us four years to take it back, and another two years of fighting after that before the King agreed to a truce. And I wonder, was this war so different from the one between the gods? If the Jötnar merely want the thing that was taken from them?”

 “No,” Loki murmured. “No, it doesn’t seem to be. What of your vows, though? Your dedication to Freya, if this is how you feel?”

 “The gods are immortal and mighty beyond my understanding, and most worthy of our devotion, but they are not infallible. I do not think it a betrayal to accept them as they truly are. Anyway,” he added, shaking his head, “I am no philosopher. What I know is that I made a vow and would be dishonored by breaking it.”

 “It’s a vow you had no choice in making.”

 Thor shook his head sadly. “I’ve made my peace with that.”

 “But-”

 "Please,” said Thor. “Please.”

 “Thor-”

 “The peace was hard-won. Please don’t take it from me.”

 Thor looked at him with desperate eyes. Loki knew he could talk Thor out of it. He’d had centuries to build upon his natural cleverness and his silver tongue, while Thor hadn’t had even three decades to build the strength against such things, but somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Because he _could_ talk Thor into breaking his vow, and following him to Jotunheim, and spending the rest of his life being fucked senseless, and Thor wouldn’t even hate him for it. No, Thor would hate himself for it. Loki couldn’t.

 “I brought you a snack this time, just in case,” he said. He hadn’t, but a new topic seemed rather urgent.

 “Did you?” Thor looked pleased. “That was kindly thought.”

 “Well, after your embarrassing display last time I was here, I thought I’d spare you the blushes.”

 Thor blushed. It was delightful.

 “Guess what it is?” Since Loki would have to shape it with his seiðr, he figured Thor may as well get something he liked.

 “Is it a pastry?” Thor looked hopeful.

 “It is, but what kind?”

 “Cake?”   

Loki smiled and opened his bag. Thor was nearly bouncing on his heels now. Oh, this was even better than the blushing. Loki carefully blocked Thor’s view with his body as a quick twist of his hand - inside the bag, on the off chance Freya was watching as well - and pulled out a small cake, the white frosting studded with blueberries.

 Thor’s eyes, when he saw it, were as wide a child’s at Yule. “But we must share it,” he said as Loki held it out to him.

 “I’m not overly fond of sweets,” Loki demurred. “You enjoy it for me.”

 Thor devoured it, moaning with pleasure at each bite, eyes half closed in bliss, tongue taking long swipes up his fingers to get every bit of frosting. Loki couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of the cake as he felt his cock stirring at the show.

 Then it was gone, and Thor was looking at him. Announcing that he was still hungry, and how glad he was there was something else even more delicious waiting for him.

 Loki wasn’t jealous of the cake after that.

 He got to enjoy it well enough, anyway, how Thor’s mouth tasted like frosting and his breath smelled like blueberries. There was no way that eating the cake could be this good. Thor coaxed him onto his back, pressing him down with kisses running down his throat, his chest, his stomach. Loki’s cock, which had begun to stir while Thor was making such a show of enjoying his treat, was now fully erect, and Thor gave it the faintest, most delicate of licks, his hot breath in sharp contrast to his cool and restrained motions. He ran a teasing tongue along the seam of his balls as he reached carefully back, to press into the little bundle of nerves that hid just behind them. Loki’s cock began to bob with need, and Thor ran a lazy finger across and around the head, gathering and spreading the sparkling drop that had appeared at the tip. He grinned ferally as Loki began to pant. Loki wanted Thor, now, but was enjoying these ministrations too much to rush things. And then Thor leaned down and sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of his hip, making Loki moan, and then he was lightly biting all the way back up to breathe in Loki’s ear.

 “How would you have me?”

 Loki looked at him speculatively. He knew, already, exactly how he wanted Thor, but he loved the look of shivering anticipation that consumed his face when Loki dragged things out. 

“Mmm. I’ll have to think about that,” Loki purred back, easing Thor down and rising up over him.

He leaned in and nibbled in the spot beneath Thor’s ear that made him groan, the sound jarring straight to Loki’s cock. Thor’s skin smelled faintly of spices, and Loki wondered, vaguely, how the hierodores felt about their bodies being washed in something too expensive for them to eat, especially when it was only underneath the spices, and even better, was Thor’s own scent found, a heady mix of wood and musk. Loki bit harder as he inhaled, savoring both fragrance and feel, and brought his hand up to tease at Thor’s nipples, grinning wildly at the way they tightened and stiffened beneath his fingers. Thor began to shift beneath him, his breath speeding up and soft whimpering grunts starting to escape him.

 Loki shifted downward, drawing Thor’s legs gently apart as he moved, and took one pert nipple between his teeth to roll and tease as he oiled his fingers, the taut skin pebbly under his lips. He loved stretching and readying Thor, loved the gratifying sounds he made as Loki slowly worked him open, these helpless noises he was making in anticipation. He had seemed so nervous, their first time, but after that he had given himself over completely to Loki’s attentions, and it was glorious.

 He pressed a fingertip gently against Thor’s entrance, thrilling in the feel of the strong muscle fluttering beneath him, before sliding it smoothly in. He was still relaxed and open from before, but teasing him like this was such pleasure, caressing and circling the tight spot of nerves that made Thor stiffen and cry out. He liked getting Thor so ready that he was begging for it, liked the way it made him react when Loki finally entered him, as though Loki’s cock were the only thing in the world anyone could ever want in life.

 Loki tugged Thor’s legs around to dangle off the bed, his hips at the very edge. Thor looked confused for a brief moment before a desperate grin crept over his face and he brought his ankles up over Loki’s shoulders, angling himself perfectly for Loki to slid in, and Loki did, with a sudden, harsh thrust that had Thor’s eyes flying abruptly open. The hot, gripping velvet of Thor’s passage gave way so beautifully for him, and he reveled a moment at the deliciousness of being buried so deep inside, before he drew slowly back and slammed in again. Thor’s face quickly became a mask of pleasure as worked his legs further up Loki’s shoulders, canting his hips into a deeper angle.

 Loki felt the tension coiling more tightly in his belly with each thrust, the drag and glide on his cock a perfect blend of tight demands and searing welcome. It grew even tighter, hungrier, as he looked down at Thor, glistening with sweat, writhing and grasping helplessly at the blankets. Loki leaned forward slightly, letting his weight rest on the backs of Thor’s thighs as he sped up, driving frantically now. He took Thor’s cock in one hand, luxuriating in the way it slid through his fist each time he plunged himself into Thor, the way that Thor was clamping down on him, passage spasming helplessly as he shot his pleasure over Loki’s hand, and then he was spilling too, moaning Thor’s name over and over, paralyzed with the intensity of it as peal after peal rolled through his body, the coiled tension snapping free and bringing every nerve to quivering life.

 He rested there, draped over Thor’s legs, panting for air and feeling his pulse slowly calm down. Thor looked gorgeously wrecked, covered in sweat, his chest heaving and his hair tangled, a contented smile and closed eyes completing the perfect picture. _I could quite easily get used to this response to my company_ , he thought as he eased himself up and settled next to Thor. Thor threw a heavy arm over his chest and pressed his forehead to Loki’s shoulder.

 “Yes, even better than cake,” he mumbled.


	6. Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ll get it in no time,” Loki assured him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The easily confused letters-
> 
> p -p  
> þ- thorn, makes a 'th' sound  
> ƿ- wynn, makes a 'w' sound
> 
> And Loki is right that they're annoyingly similar, especially in manuscript.

Loki was beginning to enjoy making the tapestries. He liked the thought of Folkvang’s walls absolutely covered in scenes of massacres. It felt like he was showing them what was in store for them once Jotunheim managed to break the current deadlock. He liked feeling, for once, that he was winning.

“You do bring the most beautifully evocative pieces, Lord Sølvgren,” Sif said to him politely.

“I come from a bloody people,” he grinned.

She paled slightly, then, before telling him that Thor was with another devotee. Loki found, to his surprise, that he didn’t like that at all. He knew very well what Thor did here, but waiting for him proved to be something else entirely.

As he sat and talked with Sif while he waited, though he did not actually say what his business was, that required so much travel, he dropped careful hints to suggest that he was a courier of some high importance, perhaps even working on royal orders. It was enough that, combined with his rich offerings, she agreed with his request.

“My business will have me travelling more regularly for the rest of the summer,” he told her. “Perhaps you could arrange for Thor to see me on alternate Tuesdays?”

 

Thor looked happy when he told him, the golden face beaming sunshine at him. It was almost enough to make Loki forget that someone else had been here first. Almost. He wanted to fuck Thor extra hard, and he knew it was stupid and territorial, but he didn’t care. Until he slipped one hand between the firm cheeks to prepare him - if he needed preparing, Loki thought bitterly - and was met, not with the usual smile, but a wince.

Thor’s eyes were cast down. “Not all are as considerate as you, my lord,” he said.

“Someone hurt you?” Loki asked, anger flaring.

“Not hurt, just… I’ll be fine tomorrow. I’m fine now, really,” he said.

Loki cocked an eyebrow at that, knowing it was untrue, but finding himself unwilling to press Thor on such a thing if he didn’t want to speak of it. So instead he pulled him down onto the mattress, and they lay on their sides, kissing, caressing, until they brought each other off with their hands, spend blurring together on their bellies. Even that made Thor wince slightly, in the midst of his pleasure, as pained muscles squeezed down on themselves. Loki was no stranger to the extra savor that pain could add, when it was desired and well-wielded, but this was a far cry from such joys.

In the sleepy haze that took Thor afterwards, it was easy to get him to speak enough for Loki to identify the clumsy fool who had done it. In the following months, such a strange series of events befell him that he finally packed up, sold his farm, and took to the sea. 

*****

“I’ve brought you something,” Loki, reaching into his small bag as Thor opened the door to his knock. Thor looked cheerful, obviously expecting cake. Instead, Loki pulled out a ragged book, hoping it wouldn’t be a letdown. Thor did like cakes, very much.

Thor’s face fell.

“Never mind,” said Loki, hurriedly stuffing it back in. “I just thought you might-”

“I would!” Thor interrupted. “It’s just, we’re not allowed to accept gifts. Otherwise, of course I would.”

“Oh.” That was all right then. “Can you borrow things, though? I loved this when I was young, and this should be easier to start with than with your book.”

“Start?” Thor looked puzzled.

“I thought perhaps I could help you with reading. If you’re not too busy. If you’d like.”

Thor beamed. “I’ll go ask Sif. If I can’t borrow it, you might bring it with you when you visit?”

“Of course. Go ask, though.” Loki grinned at Thor’s loud tread as he hurried down the hallway to Sif’s chambers. Definitely not a stealth warrior, this one. He was quickly returning, bouncing this time by the sound of it, and Loki was already smiling by the time Thor’s happy face shone at him.

“She said I may borrow it, as long as I return it when I’ve learned what there is to learn.”

“You’ll get it in no time,” Loki assured him. “Do you already know the letters?”

“Most of them. I tend to mix up p, þ, and ƿ.”

“That’s because it’s stupid and annoying to make them look so much alike,” Loki explained helpfully. “This is a fairly simple bestiary, so it shouldn’t have many words you don’t know, and it’s easier to tell the letters apart when you can guess what the word is.”

They sat down at the table together, chairs drawn close, and set to work. Thor started out hesitantly, and maybe he didn’t _quite_ know the letters as well as he’d said, but he grew confident as Loki praised him, encouraging him gently and working together through the longer and more difficult words. Loki quickly discovered that when Thor was concentrating on something intently, his brow furrowed and his tongue stuck out just the teeniest bit. Loki was tempted to bring a much harder book next time, just to watch.

They’d gotten through the entries on bears, mermaids, and unicorns when Thor began to fidget.

Loki closed the book. “I think that’s plenty for one day.”

“I’m sorry,” Thor said. “I’m just not accustomed to sitting still for so long, and I’m not used to reading so much.”

Loki kissed him. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “I would rather we stop before you grew bored, and turn to… other things.”

“Other things?” Thor grinned at him.

“Mmm. Like your reward, for being such a good student.”

It turned out that Thor liked his reward very much. They began as they always did, with delicious kisses and gentle caresses that grew deeper with their need, until Loki had Thor on his back, oiled fingers twisting and curling into him, gently pressing and stroking against the spot that always made him see stars. As Thor’s head pressed back, gasping with pleasure, a mouth came down around him, and he cried out as he arched his back, helplessly shoving himself forward. He had only had such a thing once before, from a tavern girl who was willing enough to go under the table and work her way down a line of warriors, as long as they tipped her afterwards. That had been glorious, a memory to hold on to for years afterward as Thor fisted himself in his tent. And this, this was no bored servant, but a wealthy lord, who was willingly and, it seemed, happily, drawing Thor into his mouth. Wealthy and gorgeous, Thor amended, as he watched him peer up through thick black lashes. 

And definitely not bored. Even if his face had not reflected the fact, the infinite variety of things he managed to do with his mouth would not have given him the chance to grow dull. He sucked, pale cheeks pulling inward with tension. He licked, long stripes from the base to the tip, tiny teasing ones just on the frenulum, easing his tongue into the creamy fluid that began to dome up on the slit and drawing away to make a long silver thread, staring into Thor’s eyes as he did so. Thor could barely breathe as he watched it snap and a pale hand rubbing it into a pale chest. He had done this once to Loki, and been gratified at the response it had gotten him; now he understood how deeply, deeply erotic it was to watch. Then Loki was sliding back down him, head bobbing faster, and though he kept his motions shallow, Thor felt the tension coiling deep inside him and rapidly demanding release.

“Loki… I’m going to…” he managed to warn.

Loki moved his head away just in time, and Thor’s come spilled out all over Loki’s chest, leaving jagged white lines across him. Loki saw Thor watching, and met his gaze with a sharp, knowing grin. The way Loki’s intense, wild smile grew as his chest was painted by Thor’s pleasure drew out his orgasm, making him buck his hips and spill as though it would never end.

Then it was over, and he was collapsing back onto the bed, and he meant to get a towel to clean Loki, he really did, but he just wasn’t sure he could move right then. Loki patted his thigh softly and rose. Thor was only vaguely aware of him moving around before he came back to bed, cleaned.

“What is that smile?” Loki asked in a suspicious voice.

Thor laughed. “I’m just wondering, if that’s the reward for being a good student, how does one show thanks to an excellent teacher?”

“Mmmm. I’m sure we can think of something.”


	7. Insolence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are worse ways to spend the summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a bit more unrepentant mush.

July was almost painfully hot for Loki, even with the help that his glamor provided. Since Sif had granted him the entire day, it was easy enough for them to turn that into the day and the night that followed it, so they could save their livelier activities for the relative coolness that came with nightfall. Loki had found a stream that was well-shaded by overhanging trees, and he took Thor there. They spent hours in the water, their fingers puckering as they raced, wrestled, challenged each other to tricks. _This must be what it’s like to have a brother,_ Loki thought. Helblindi and Byleistr hardly counted.

Loki had had a picnic made up at the inn that morning, and they had brought it with them. He let Thor carry it. No point in letting those muscles go to waste, not when it was so very enjoyable to watch them work. They slumped on a blanket, leaning against a broad tree, and fed each other lunch. It was comprised entirely of small, easily handled bites of things, and he suspected that the sensible Ulla had a streak of sentiment, to have sent such things. Perhaps she and her husband had picnicked here once, when they were courting.

He had also brought along the bestiary, and they sprawled naked in the breeze, taking turns reading to each other about fantastical animals. Thor, never one for sitting still, took to imitating the animals when it was Loki’s turn to read, and Loki didn’t even get to finish the passage on Selkies before they were both back in the water, book abandoned.

As dusk began to fall they dried off and walked back into town, stopping at the public house for beers before returning to the temple. Thor got a few looks, but between Loki’s glares and Ulla’s threats to cut off anyone who was unwelcoming to her guests, it eased quickly. Loki enjoyed this as well. It was pleasant to sit, and chat, and enjoy a cold drink. Friendly. How strange it was, he thought, that he seemed to be growing better friends with this man who didn’t even know who he was, than he had ever been with anyone before. Yes. It was pleasant, indeed.

*****

As the air grew cool, and their beers grew lower, Thor noticed Loki’s glances at him growing longer and longer. He drank more quickly, finishing a few sips ahead of Loki, who gave his knee a quick squeeze under the table before climbing out from their awkward spot in the middle of a long bench.

Thor let Loki set the pace back to the temple, expecting it to be eager and hurried, but instead it was a relaxed amble. The fireflies were out in full force, tonight, and Loki seemed utterly enchanted by them.

“Don’t you have them in the north?” he asked, curious.

“We don’t,” Loki answered. “I’ve seen them on trips before, of course, but not enough to be accustomed.” He reached out a hand and carefully trapped one, watching it crawl all over his wrist, blinking, before it flew off.

“This is nothing compared to where I grew up,” Thor said. “I remember going to bed, and my room being all lit up as they came in my open windows.”

Loki made a small, pleased sound at the thought, and they lapsed into silence.

Just for a moment. Loki was staring upwards as he walked, watching the twinkles of light, and he stumbled as his foot caught a rock. Thor caught him and casually - so, so casually - put an arm around his waist. He relaxed as Loki allowed it to remain.

“Are you so easily affected by that little beer, Loki? You’re ruining all my imaginings of what it is to be a lord,” he teased. “I thought you all got drunk every night.”

“Insolence!” Loki said, pinching him. “I don’t know where it came from. I’m certain you weren’t this bad when I first visited the temple.”

“Mmmm, I wasn’t. It’s only since I’ve learned how much I enjoy it when you put me in my place.”

Loki looked at him from narrowed eyes. “Oh, I shall indeed do that.”

Back in Thor’s room, Loki did, indeed, put Thor very firmly in his place.

He had their clothes off and Thor on the bed almost before he knew what was happening. Loki hovered over him, brushing light touches along his sides, up his arms, across his lips. Thor reached for him, wanting to feel that smooth, cool skin beneath his own rough hands, but Loki slapped his hands away.

“Did I give you permission to do that?”

“No, but-”

“No ‘buts,’ Thor. Nothing at all except what I permit. Right now, you have permission only to enjoy.”

The intensity in Loki’s words was matched by that in his eyes, and Thor felt his pulse rushing as his skin came alive. Loki lowered his head to lick careful designs all over the broad chest beneath him, outlining each defined muscle as his tongue ran through the shallows between them. Much as Thor loved taking Loki slowly apart, it was delicious to be allowed nothing but his own pleasure. It was not something he had had much of in his life before now, and if that was what Loki truly wanted from him tonight, he would savor every moment.

He watched through heavy lids as Loki moved slowly over him, hands and lips and tongue coaxing his desire further and further, teeth biting lightly into one nipple and then the other, making a low hum at Thor’s helpless gasp, and the feel of it shot deep inside him, sending a pulse of energy running through every nerve, until he was writhing helplessly.

“I thought we talked about this, Thor,” Loki said sternly. “I didn’t say you could _move_.”

He hopped up and grabbed the ever-growing robe-tie collection from the closet. He got Thor up onto his hands and knees and proceeded to perform an elaborate series of wraps, loops, and knots, until Thor was almost completely immobilized. He felt his stomach tighten in nerves and anticipation. The knowledge that he was now totally helpless was almost intoxicating. Knowing that Loki _could _do anything to him, while knowing that Loki _would_ do only good things, made his head swim.__

__“All right?” Loki asked. Thor nodded his head - the only thing he could still move - and Loki patted him affectionately on the rear. “Tell me if anything starts to feel cold or tingly.”_ _

__He started to nod again, but was interrupted by a firm hand taking hold of his cock. He threw his head back, gasping, “ _Yes,_ Loki,” and suddenly the hand was taken off his cock to pat his rump again._ _

__“See? That’s the sort of willing obedience I like. I knew you could do better,” Loki said cheerfully, dragging a finger through Thor’s cleft._ _

__“Please…” Thor groaned._ _

__“Hmmm,” said Loki. “I’m not sure that actually counts as enjoying, but I’ll allow it. Yes. You may enjoy, and you may beg.”_ _

__But then his hands were back on Thor, one stroking his cock and as the other glided upwards to resume teasing his nipples, his mouth leaving a series of bites down Thor’s spine as Thor moaned and shuddered beneath him._ _

__And he was opening Thor, teeth sinking lightly into one cheek, then the other, taunting fingers sliding in, slicking him with oil, stretching him wide, until Thor was gasping, and moaning, and, yes, begging. Loki nibbled his way to Thor’s balls, teeth sinking in so very lightly, again reminding Thor of all the things he could do to him, trussed this way, and then he moved his mouth upwards, just an inch, and pressed his tongue on the spot just behind them, a little bundle of nerves that had Thor seeing stars and sobbing his need. Loki alternated between pressing with the sharp tip of his tongue, drawing little circles, and laving with the broad flat, and each one was better than the last, and he wanted it to last forever, so impossibly perfect. The bonds made the pleasure even more intense somehow, as though they tied him to the moment, as well as to the bed, and there was nothing left in the world but Loki and the exquisite things he was doing._ _

__And then Loki was inside him, hands on his hips and pulling him back firmly._ _

__“You don’t come until I tell you,” Loki ordered._ _

__Thor whimpered, so very ready for release that he could have come just at the feeling of being entered, but he gritted his teeth, determined to do as he was told._ _

__Loki held still a moment, watching for Thor’s response, before he began to move. He eased out, then drove in deeply._ _

__“Who is the lord here?”_ _

__“You are,” Thor gasped._ _

__Another thrust. “Who has the power?”_ _

__“You.”_ _

__Another. Thor bit his lip to keep from crying out and interrupting Loki. “Who is to be respected?”_ _

__“You are… please, please Loki…” he moaned, unable to hold back his helpless noises any further._ _

__“And who has forgotten that? Who has been insolent?”_ _

__“I have… oh gods, Loki, please, I need…”_ _

__“Mmm. You know how much need your lesson, don’t you? Good boy,” Loki concluded, and then he was done talking, done demanding and he was giving and giving, driving into Thor with the intensity he knew Thor loved, careful to keep his hips at the angle that sent Thor to the peaks of ecstasy, and Thor’s hands were clawing at the sheets beneath them, and Thor was on the edge, so ready, any second, but he would wait for the command, yes, he loved this, relinquishing all control to one whose entire control was devoted to Thor’s own pleasure._ _

__Thor moaned, the sound low and stuttering, and he felt the muscles in Loki’s thighs, pressed against his own, start to tighten._ _

__“Now,” Loki muttered through gritted teeth, the sudden tension in his hands telling Thor of his climax moments before Thor felt it spilling inside him. “Now, Thor.”_ _

__At his word, all the tension and need that had been tightly coiled, deep in his belly, sprang free and exploded into pleasure. Thor could only whimper as his body tried in vain to buck. Unable to move, all the intensity was forced to pour into his mind, and it was like lightning shooting through his brain as his vision went white, wave after wave pulsing through him and all he could do was ride them and know nothing but the feel of Loki inside him, Loki spilling inside him, Loki’s hand grasping him and urging him on as he spilled, his whole body convulsing from the strength of it, before it finally eased, and he was aware of how close he had come to passing out from the intensity._ _

__Thor’s head hung limply, his body shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure, as Loki gently untied him and carefully eased him down to the mattress, following quickly._ _

__“Well,” said Loki, “I hope you learned your lesson about being insolent.”_ _

__Thor curled up against him, pressing a kiss on his shoulder. “Thank you.”_ _

__Loki gave a dramatic sigh. “Noblesse oblige.”_ _

__*****_ _

__Thor woke before Loki the next morning. He would have fetched some breakfast to have waiting for him, but found that Loki was sleeping on his hair, so he stayed still, thinking about the day before._ _

__Loki swam like a river otter, his long, sleek body cutting through the water as though he were born to it. Thor liked the analogy; as a child, he had loved watched the otters in the river near his home. They were charming and playful, making slides of mud to ride into the water, turning somersaults in the midst of the current, and he even saw one chasing a butterfly once. Yet when they hunted, every bit of their bodies was focused on bringing death. They killed as deliberately as they romped. Though it had never been turned towards Thor, he sensed that same ruthlessness running beneath the smooth skin that glowed in the shadows, and it gave him a thrill, deep down in his belly._ _

__But their play had been nothing but fun and boyish. Baldr was a kind brother, and played with Thor when he could, but there had been too little of it in the midst of his studies and preparation for inheriting the estate. Yesterday had been much of what Thor imagined it would be to have a brother his own age. He looked at Loki, snoring gently beside him (something he would never admit to witnessing), and felt a surge of affection._ _

__*****_ _

__Their hot summer days continued to pass much the same way: walking to the stream - which quickly became _their_ stream, talking, having a beer or two, inventing games in the water, inventing games in bed. Thor loved these days, wished he could have them every Tuesday, every day. Loki was becoming more relaxed, more open with Thor, and the more he knew of him, the more he liked. When he had first moved to Orfjara, he thought he might make friends with some of the other heirodores. He did not expect his closest friend to be a foreign nobleman who took his breath away with his beauty one moment and with his sharp intelligence the next._ _

__Their sex had the same desperate need as it always had, but it was layered, now, with a playful confidence. Laughter came more and more easily, and with it, the willingness to experiment with things that had the potential to be either completely mind-blowing or hilariously embarrassing. It was about an even split, Thor thought, as he rubbed the rapidly growing lump on the top of his head. Loki was trying, and failing, to keep a straight face as he petted Thor in concern, peering into his eyes to make sure the pupils matched. Maybe that particular trick was not the best idea, after all. He took another look at Loki’s face, though, at the soft light in his eyes, and decided that maybe it wasn’t the worst, either._ _


	8. Winter is not a Wonderland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forced separation, loneliness, and sadness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to point out that I added a 'child death' tag. It's not a character, and it's in keeping with the time period, but then the Middle Ages could get nasty. Thor needed some motivation for something happening down the line. 
> 
> This is a short chapter but tomorrow's should be nice and long. 
> 
> Thanks for the feedback of various sorts, it all means so much! :)

Loki didn’t mind admitting that he was reasonably fond of Thor. He was enjoyable company; his playful impertinence, when they were alone, was consistently amusing, and his body was frankly delightful. So as the days on Midgard grew shorter, Loki found himself vaguely wishing that he had chosen a different story about himself. There was no way Lord Solvgren, of the northern lands, would be able to travel much more until spring came.

*****

Thor’s reading was progressing rapidly. Loki was now bringing adult books, which made it easier to find things he thought Thor might enjoy. He had quite a few in his bag, this time, many more than usual.

“Why do you look sad?” Thor asked, running his hand over Loki’s soft hair.

“It’s almost October.”

“Yes...” Thor said slowly.

“Soon the roads to my town will be solid ice. Once I return home on this trip, I won’t be back until spring,” he said.

 _Oh._ Thor hadn’t even thought about the approach of winter. Surely it would be even harsher in Loki’s home. It was bad enough here, further south, so that sometimes days or even weeks would pass without people setting foot outdoors unless they had livestock in need of care.

He rested his forehead against Loki’s. “I will miss you,” he said.

*****

Loki looked at Thor in his viewing globe, but never watched for long. Not long enough to see him with other temple visitors, to see other people having what was denied him. But while his glimpses were brief, they were frequent, checking to make sure that Thor was happy. Not that Loki cared so much, of course. He simply wanted to be met by a cheerful face when he returned in the spring, that was all.

Occasionally he managed to convince himself.

He heard the whispers behind his back, that he’d become a eunuch as well as a runt, and began to work his way through the list of courtesans, trying to feign normalcy. Neither he nor they believed it.

The war dragged on, with little headway gained by either side for more than a day or two before seeing it retaken. The only event of note was when Helblindi was gravely wounded in a skirmish on Svartalfheim. It was meant to be an easy rout, for once, and he had done his celebrating before he even arrived on the plain to take up arms. A Vanir archer, seeing the careless way he held up his shield, sent an arrow deep into his right shoulder. He would recover, but whether he would fight again was unknown. In light of his favorite son’s injury, Laufey took to drinking more deeply than ever. The court, grimly dissolute in the best of times, gave way to morbid libertinage.

Loki spent hours watching Midgard slowly rotate. He wondered just how cross the All-Father would be if Loki gave the planet just the gentlest nudge to speed spring’s arrival. _Not worth the risk,_ he concluded sadly.

*****

Winter at the temple was the slowest Thor had ever seen life. They would have massive card games that lasted for days. Fights over the pettiest things imaginable that lasted even longer than the card games. Thor grew to welcome even the most dull of devotees. At least they brought with them a different kind of boredom, and that was variety, of a sort.

Then one afternoon, late in January, something happened that made Thor regret his wish for _something, anything_ to happen. The temple was out of mead for their usual Freyasday meal, and Thor had volunteered to go get more. He fiercely hated the cold, but his strong body withstood it more easily than those of most of the hierodores, so he put on his warmest clothes, smiling as Sif added her own, warmer, scarf around his neck, and set out.

On his way back, a jug of mead stowed safely in a bag on his back, the snowfall grew so heavy he could barely see five feet in front of him except when a gust would clear the way for a moment. He was perhaps halfway back to the temple when one of these gusts revealed a small figure ahead of him. It walked slowly. The next time he saw it, it stopped for a moment, in the middle of a step, as though too tired to lift a foot, before bracing itself and continuing on. Perhaps a minute later the air cleared enough for him to see it leaning against a fence. As he watched, it went limp and slid to the ground. He ran, feet going wild all over the ice, until he was taking it up in his arms. It was a little boy, perhaps five years old, face pinched with hunger and cold. Thor carried it to Eir’s as fast as he could move, but it was too late.

“It’s been a hungry winter,” she told him gently. “This lad’s family has suffered much of the worst of it.”

Thor said nothing when he returned to the temple, unable to find the words. He just apologized for his slowness in bringing the mead, holding up the meal.

He was determined to not suffer unduly over the sight; one of the first things he had learned as a warrior was the importance of avoiding undue pain over deaths he could not prevent. And children died every winter, just as they did every other season.

Still, he stopped minding the boredom, after that.


	9. Daffodils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A return, a request, and something unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

The snowstorms slowly eased their harsh attacks, retreating before the warm winds that began to blow in from the west. The sun began to share its warmth with them again, and the nights, though cold, lost their bitterness. There was a general celebration in the temple when the first crocus were found growing in their garden.

Thor stood with them all, smiling over the purple-kissed flower bed, but his thoughts were on the northern road. He had never thought much about flowers before, but now, as everyone kept such careful track of the earliest blooms, the garden began to set the pace of the days.

Loki did not come with the crocus, nor did he come with the anemones or the tiny irises. But when the daffodils began to bloom, their bright, cheerful heads rising to greet the sun, Loki returned.

*****

Loki had known, from his globe, that Thor would look different. Seeing it in person, though, was something else completely. He had arrived at the temple and told the servant at the door not to send for Thor. Loki knew his way here well enough now. The servant smiled in gratitude and said that Thor would most likely be found in the garden.

He stood in the arched doorway that led outdoors, watching Thor as he idly stroked a yellow petal. He was thinner, winter’s fare being lean even for a well-supplied temple, and his gold glow had faded in the short days. Loki felt hesitant, wishing that he had allowed the servant to summon Thor, after all, when the blue eyes suddenly raised to his. Thor’s face broke into a smile that would surely, surely, have melted the snows and kept the temple warm all winter.

Then Thor was there, before him, pulling Loki into his arms and squeezing as though he would never let go. Loki felt - _not shy, that was ridiculous_ \- simply a little unsure what to say, after their long separation.

“Loki,” Thor breathed, bringing their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

“And I you,” Loki said. “I came as soon as the northern roads cleared.”

“I’ve been marking time with the garden,” Thor said. “It seemed… better, somehow, to watch new things arrive rather than counting the days that passed.”

It took only the gentlest shift of their heads, deliciously slow as they both tried to make this moment last for days, and their lips were together. Loki felt the heat start to rise deep within him as they dragged their lips back and forth, reveling in the sensation of skin on skin after so long without, eyes holding on to one another. With a sense almost of regret, Loki parted his lips slightly, feeling Thor match his movement, eyelids sliding shut as their tongues met, coaxing, delving as their jaws parted more fully.

Thor’s hands were swirling across his back, holding him so close to his still-solid frame, cocks rising within their cloth prisons to press tightly together. He groaned into Loki’s mouth, and the vibration of it seemed to pour down his throat, right into the tension that was growing in his stomach and sparking it into wildfire.

Thor was beginning to pant, lightly. “Now, Loki,” he begged. “Please.”

Loki would have liked to drag this out longer, but that could be negotiated in privacy. They did take a long time to go the short distance to Thor’s room; they kept stopped to press up against the wall, kisses desperate now, hands grasping faces, tangling in hair, tugging tunics out of belts and reaching upward over the skin that had been for too long only a memory.

They stumbled into Thor’s room, trying to pull off their boots while still walking, and not succeeding very well at either. Thor stilled Loki with his hands, tugging off his tunic before sinking to his knees, licking a slow trail down Loki’s bared stomach.

“You are untouched by winter,” he murmured against the cool skin, as his hands worked quickly at the laces of Loki’s breeches and boots, sliding them off. Thor took a moment to run his gaze over Loki’s nude body, as if trying to convince himself that this was real.

Loki’s breath hitched at the look in Thor’s eyes, reveling in the open adoration. And then he could barely breathe, as with a sharp gasp of want, Thor took Loki’s cock between his lips and sank down in one smooth motion. He was still whimpering as he worked his head up and down, one hand lightly caressing Loki’s balls, the other hand wrapped firmly around one of Loki’s firm thighs.

Loki’s head was heavy as he watched Thor, hands running over the golden head, feeling the muscles in the back of Thor’s neck as they tensed and shifted. His need was growing so rapidly, so intensely, and he decided to simply enjoy this, as Thor so obviously was. Once the burning edge of his lust was satisfied, he could take his time giving Thor the royal fucking he so richly deserved.

He tightened his hands on Thor’s head, signalling him to be still, before he began to thrust into Thor’s mouth, so wet and hot and welcoming. Thor shifted slightly so that both his hands were on Loki’s ass, pulling him deeper. His eyes began watering as Loki filled his throat, but his hands kept tugging, _yes, Thor wanted it like this_ , wanted Loki as far as he could go, and then Thor got a tighter hold on him and wouldn’t let Loki thrust anymore, just held him as he filled Thor’s throat, and Thor began to swallow, over and over, and it sucked deliciously on every inch of Loki’s cock, the velvety lining of his throat grasping and caressing Loki so perfectly and then he was spilling, right down Thor’s throat, and it was so hot and tight and wet and he sobbed as his climax shuddered through him and poured out of him. Thor held him deep inside, still swallowing, until Loki’s harsh jerks calmed.

Thor eased back onto his heels, then, wiping his eyes dry and smiling up at Loki, before he rose to his feet. He looked as overwhelmed as Loki felt, and despite his body still shaking slightly, Loki was the one to calm and soothe, wrapping an arm around Thor’s waist and murmuring into his shoulder how well he had done, and how Loki was going to show him exactly how much pleasure he had given.

They settled onto the bed together, and Loki didn’t even know if he was petting Thor with tenderness or desire. His caresses slowly grew firmer, more demanding, until Thor’s legs fell open. His face was a mix of anticipation and apprehension, as though he’d had so many clumsy fools since he’d last had Loki that he had forgotten how purely good it could be. Loki silently cursed them all as he set about making Thor forget that anyone else even existed.

Loki ran his tongue all over Thor’s chiseled arms, his magnificent chest, biting gently just where he knew Thor liked it best. He had missed this, missed the control he had over the powerful body that was shared so freely and so fully with him, missed all the ways of making Thor make _that noise,_ he thought, as he licked tiny strokes down the burning cock before him. Thor’s body stiffened, ever so slightly, as Loki oiled his fingers, and Loki covered him with gentle, reassuring kisses as he eased a finger inside.

“That’s perfect, Thor,” he murmured against his stomach, “it’s all right, it’s all right, you’re doing so beautifully…”

He waited for the tension to ease before working in another, then another, all the while encouraging and reassuring, until Thor was writhing wantonly, grinding himself against the fingers spearing inside him and moaning with each of Loki’s subtle movements. The sight was delicious, and his cock, already hard, began to throb its own need, demanding attention and satiation. Loki ignored it, leaning down and taking Thor’s cock in his mouth, not far, but enough to make him gasp in pleasure as he sucked in time with the gentle pulses he was using to give Thor a little more stretch, before withdrawing both hands and mouth. Thor’s groan of protest was cut off, though, as Loki spoke.

“How would you like this?”

“I have enjoyed all the ways we have found together,” Thor said, still a little shy. Loki loved this slight hesitance, loved coaxing Thor to speak up for what he wanted.

“Then choose what appeals to you right now,” Loki said.

Thor thought a moment. “Perhaps like the time when you were sitting up, and I sat in your lap?”

Loki smiled at the memory. He had been relaxing on the bank of their stream, legs stretched before him and leaning back on his hands, when Thor grew amorous and, after preparing himself quickly, sank down upon Loki and wrapped his powerful legs behind Loki’s back. They were completely covered in stream-bed mud by the time they were finished, and it was worth every speck. The entire day had been delightful, and Loki was glad to find, now, that Thor had a similar fondness.

He nodded. “Of course, if you like.”

Loki scooted over to the center of the bed, settling back onto his hands, and Thor hurried to join him. It was rather undignified, the way Thor had to squat awkwardly in order to sink down upon him, and then shifting his weight around in order to slide first one foot and then the other forwards and away. Awkward enough, in fact, that they found themselves laughing even as they gasped at the exquisite sensation of finally, finally joining together once again. Even once Thor had gotten himself situated, it was not likely to be an illustration for a smutty book, not with the skin of their bellies all crunched up and wrinkled like this. And yet... the look on Thor’s face as he was filled by Loki for the first time in months, the way he had to fight so hard to maintain his concentration despite his instinct to slam himself down, the shuddering gasp he gave as he was filled completely, it was far, far more erotic than any picture Loki had ever seen.

Neither one was able to move vigorously in this position. Loki’s hips were pinned under Thor’s weight, and while he could have lifted them to thrust into Thor, it was hardly something that mortal Lord Sølvgren could do, so Loki had to be content with rocking his hips instead, tilting his pelvis forward and back. It was only a small motion, but it sent shivers of pleasure and want running through him, and he moaned softly. Thor couldn’t move much more than Loki, but he tilted his hips to match Loki’s gentle glides. The limited movement meant it took a long time for their need to escalate, breath speeding up so slowly as they stared into each others eyes, savoring the sight before them as want finally consumed their faces and harshened their breathing into panting.

And then Thor was leaning forward, kissing Loki desperately and begging, begging him for more, harder, deeper, and yes, yes, Loki wanted to give that to him, to return to Thor all the pleasure he had given to Loki.

“Yes, lean back now, and lift up just a little bit for me,” Loki said. _Just_ managed to say.

Thor leaned back, shifting his weight to his hands, so that their postures were almost mirrored. Loki felt the strong thighs tense against his sides as Thor raised himself onto his hands and knees, just a few inches, just enough for Loki to move freely. Loki did.

He thrust upward, into that tight, waiting heat that grasped him so perfectly, relaxing down only to drive upwards once again, each time going harder, deeper, just like Thor wanted, just like they both wanted, it was so good, the lust searing through him as he gasped for air, and he was so close, so close as he shifted to free one hand, grasping Thor’s cock, coaxing his pleasure, and he felt Thor’s legs begin to tremble around him just as he came, his spend shooting so deep into Thor, and then Thor was bucking wildly above him, they were both coming together, and the clinging passage squeezed him so hard, sending pulse after pulse of pleasure through him, matching Thor’s own. 

Thor collapsed with a groan, Loki’s softening cock still inside him, as their hearts gradually eased to more gentle rhythms. He finally managed to struggle his way upright, no easy task from their current position, and wiggled around so that he was sprawled next to Loki. His arm across Loki’s chest felt warm and heavy, as though even his limbs were drowsy afterwards. Thor gave a pleased hum as he pulled Loki close for a moment. Now that they were at rest, the air suddenly felt chilly, and Loki tugged the heavy blankets over them.

*****

“Thor?” Loki asked.

Thor was so close to sleep, it took all his power just to give a small, “Mmmm?” in reply.

He wanted to hear what Loki had to say, though. He had missed Loki so much, and he very much liked Loki’s bedtime mood. Drowsiness soothed away his prickliness, and he would say things to Thor that would be unimaginable at any other time of day. It made him extra irritable the following morning, angry with his own vulnerability. It was worth it, though, even when Thor was the one who bore the brunt of his irritation, so he forced himself back awake.

“I’m sorry I compared you to your book,” Loki said, fingers drumming lightly on Thor’s arm.

“Am I not so beautiful once you’ve messed my hair?” Thor teased.

“No… I mean, of course you are. It’s not just the book… I was raised to think of your people as little more than objects. I saw you at first as a thing to be enjoyed, like a book. Not like a person.”

Even for sleepy pillow talk, this was far beyond anything Loki had ever said to Thor before. Loki was _not_ the sort to apologize, to open himself up like this. Thor almost forgot to breathe as he struggled to find the best answer, the one that wouldn’t result in a too terribly angry Loki in the morning.

“I was taught the same about your people,” he answered finally. “If I had known who you were from the beginning, I likely would have thought of you the same way. The only difference is that I got to know you a little before I found out. So don’t worry. You know me now.”

Loki didn’t say anything else, but his restless fingers relaxed. Thor wondered if this gentle, open Loki was who he could have been if he had been raised in a loving family, one more like Thor’s own. How many years of unkindness it had taken to create that harsh shell. How Thor might help him cast it off.

Perhaps he was already doing it. In the morning, Loki didn’t seem annoyed at all.

*****

Loki woke to the sound of the door latching gently shut. Thor was gone, and Loki grabbed the chance for some awkward-looking stretches. He was in the midst of one particularly undignified - but oh, it felt _amazing_ \- twisting thing when he heard the door begin to open, and shifted quickly into a long, elegant pose. He looked up to take in the frankly admiring look on Thor’s face.

“Oh, there you are,” he said lazily. “I’m just waking myself up a bit. You brought breakfast?”

“I did, but please don’t let me interrupt.”

“No, I want to see what you have for us,” he said, taking a seat and peering over the tray of food. There was the usual bread and jam, of course, but also a small bowl of what looked like bits of dry leaves in cream sauce. Loki scooped up a spoonful and watched it drip back into the bowl, doubtfully. It looked almost unspeakably vile. Which was saying something, considering his last three breakfasts had been lichen with a side of lichen. 

“I went hunting in the early winter,” Thor explained, “after you had gone, the game was still fairly plentiful and Sif wanted more dried meat in our stores. This is almost the last of it. I asked if we could save a little for your return.”

Loki cocked an eyebrow at him.

“I just… I wanted to share it with you,” Thor said, his cheeks going ever so lightly pinker.

Well. Loki was still suspicious of the whole thing, but he could hardly refuse it now. “How does one eat it? Are we taking turns with the spoon?”

Thor looked inordinately pleased. “You tear off a bite of bread, and spoon it over,” he said, demonstrating.

It turned out to be much better than Loki had expected. The meat was tough, but it had been sliced thinly, and its heavy saltiness melted into the sauce, and overall it was rather pleasant on the fresh bread. Conversation ceased as they ate, idly kicking at each other under the table. When it was gone, Thor poured the tea that had gone ignored, and they leaned back, sipping it contentedly. Well, Loki was content. Thor’s face was growing more and more anxious.

He finally spoke, hesitantly. “Loki?”

“Hmmm?” Loki cocked one brow above lazy lids.

“It’s almost April… will you be in Orfjara at the end of the month?”

“I’m not sure where I’ll be needed next month. Was there something you wanted?”

“It’s… the May Day celebrations.” Thor cast his eyes around, at the ground, desperately looking anywhere but at Loki.

“Yes, what about them?” From the nervous look on Thor’s face, Loki decided that he should have been paying much closer attention to that celebration. It had to be something good.

“There’s a custom particular to Orfjara. The evening before May Day, all the hierodores are given a potion to make us extra… interested, and we are given to one devotee until dawn. The more that we…shall I say, enjoy it, well, it’s supposed to be a good omen for the summer’s bounty.” Thor’s blush burned so hotly, he was surprised that the nervous trickles of sweat didn’t instantly sizzle and evaporate off his skin. “I had thought, perhaps, if you were going to be in town, you could put in for me. It’s done by lottery, but I was told that since it’s my first year, if I had a preference, that that person would be assured of winning the draw.” Thor finally looked at Loki, who took in the tension that was singing through his body.

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” he continued hurriedly. “And I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way, as I know this must be a busy time of year for you, after not being able to travel all winter. But I just thought, you know, if you were here anyway…” his voice finally trickled out.

Loki looked at Thor a moment, the coolness of his gaze making Thor’s face flare even hotter. He leaned in and rested gentle lips against Thor’s. “I’ll be here.”


	10. New Dangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road between Orfjara and Lord Sølvgren's supposed northern home becomes infested with bandits. Thor is glad to finally get a chance to fight, but his worries remain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, another death snuck in, this one with a little more character than the child in chapter 8, but not a nice one. I also added violence and bigotry tags. So heads up.

Two weeks before May Day, there was an attack on the road between Orfjara and Brautarholt. No one died, but the merchant who came dragging himself into town was bloodied, his arm broken in two places. He had been left his cart, but all his goods were taken, along with his horse. He managed to make it almost to the guildhall before he collapsed. He was a large man, one who had wealth and the food that went with it, and Thor was summoned when no one else was able to lift him to be taken to the healer.

Thor had been practicing with Mjölnir in the courtyard of the temple when a little girl came running in to fetch him. Her explanation of what had happened was somewhat garbled, but he was able to make enough sense of it to find Sif and explain that he was being called away. Her permission received, he put the girl on his shoulders to guide him, able to move faster without her short legs to slow them.

When they got to the square, he knelt to let the child climb down. As she did so, she gave him a friendly pat, as though she thought he was a small talking horse. It was pleasant. He had faced hostility since arriving, more than he had expected, especially with the amount of trade and travel the temple brought to town. People who were more than happy to enjoy him in the temple would stare straight through him in the streets. He had been warned of this unreasoning attitude when he first arrived, but he still found it confusing and unpleasant. It certainly wasn’t all the townspeople, or even most, but more than he had been prepared for. It might have made sense in one of the northern border towns, where the Jötnar-worshipping peoples mixed with Vanir followers, but Orfjara was solidly Vanir in dedication. Everyone knew what Freya expected in return for her graces. The hierodores were simply doing what was needed, and while Thor found the work tedious at times, there was no shame in fulfilling the wishes of a goddess, however scornful the stares directed at him might be.

They were glad enough of him now, though, with a rich man in need of care and no one else able to help him. Thor slowly eased him up to his feet, taking most of the man’s weight in the arm that Thor wrapped around his waist, but granting him the dignity of not having to be carried like a sack of grain. When they got to Eir’s house she was already hurrying about in preparation, and she helped Thor ease him up onto her examination table, the man moaning in pain as they did so. Eir quickly gave him a draught from one of the vials that stood in her tall cabinet, and took Thor’s arm to lead him out of the room.

“You don’t need to see to him?” Thor asked in surprise.

Eir shook her head. “He’s not in such immediate need that he can’t wait a few minutes. Giving the poppy a few minutes to take effect before I start work on him will make it easier on both of us. So tell me, what happened? All Swanhild said when she came ahead was that an injured man was being brought to me. I had expected a simple farming accident, but he’s no farmer and that was no accident.”

“It wasn’t,” he agreed. “He wasn’t able to speak, but Arne recognized him and said he’s a merchant who travels between Brautarholt and Eiriksey each month, passing through Orfjara. He always goes alone, and has never had problems before now, despite the riches in his cart.”

“Well, he’ll think twice about that now. We have been fortunate these past years at how safe travel has been, we start to forget that it is fortune and not simply the way of things. Do you know which part of the road he was on?”

Thor nodded. “It was on the road from Brautarholt.”

She shook her head.

“That’s how I go to see my daughter and her children. I hope the attackers are caught soon. It won’t do for word to get out that there are bandits on the way to the temple, people will begin to fear to bring offerings. Go back, now. Lady Sif will wish to hear of this.”

He found Sif busy, as usual, but she set her work aside quickly when he told her what had happened. Her face grew grimmer and grimmer as he shared what he had learned. The temple was on nearly the last of its winter’s stores, making this the time of year they were most reliant on charity for their support. The temple did have its own lands, all temples did, but it was too early for them to be producing much more than the earliest lettuces. Hierodores could not be expected to do their work with nothing but salads in their bellies. Selby was kind about giving bread on credit, but times were lean for her as well, and Sif would not overextend her welcome there.

“Go back into town,” she told him. “Find Ranveig and let him know that you are excused from temple services if you can be of use in dealing with these bandits. They will not refuse your abilities.”

*****

The summons came three days later, three long days of frustrated waiting as meetings were held without him there, despite him being the best - only - trained fighter in all Orfjara. He had spent them oiling and reoiling his armor. He was glad enough to receive the message, though, and after donning his now-gleaming armor and taking Mjölnir from her space on the wall - and oh, it was good to hold her for more than exercises - he took his leave from Sif and was at the meeting point by the well, ready to fight.

He was surprised to see Selby waiting there, petting the nose of the horse that was harnessed to a wagon, and told her so.

She rolled her eyes. “No one’s bothered to tell you the plan, have they?”

“Not a word,” he answered.

“The idea is that we’ll have three men hidden under tarps in the wagon. I’m going to drive it. A woman alone will make a more tempting target, if we’re to have success luring them out.”

“But surely-”

“The safety and prosperity of the entire town depends on this, and Orfjara has no shieldmaidens,” she said, shaking her head. “There are few women here who don’t have families relying on their care, and hours of kneading bread dough has given me stronger arms than you might think. I stand a better chance at this than many women do, and if the worst happens, at least I won’t be leaving any orphans.”

Thor didn’t like it, but she had the right to make the decision for herself, and he couldn’t help admitting that the reasoning for it was sound. Soon it was time for them to lie down in the wagon bed. Thor settled down at the left side, thinking that this was the side closer to the center of the road and thus the side more likely to be approached first if they did, indeed, get attacked. Arne and Magnus joined him, Magnus looking a little uneasy as he settled next to Thor - _as if I would ever bed you if I had a say in the matter,_ he thought - and heavy tarps were thrown over them. He was glad that it was still so early in the spring, for the summer was hot and the tarp prevented any hint of breeze to freshen the air that hung close about.

It felt like hours that they rode, feeling each bump and hole in the road as he shuddered through their bones, before the sound of hooves and shouting were streaming at them, and the horse was drawn up quickly.

Thor tensed his hand upon Mjölnir, the lust for battle singing through his veins, ready to leap and swing the moment the tarp was drawn back. He listened to the men’s sharp voices, and Selby’s softer one in answer, and then suddenly he could see the sky, and a shocked face above him, and he was on his feet, Mjölnir swinging into the man’s head with a crunch that sounded sickeningly wet, before he was leaping from the wagon bed and sending her flying through the air at the back of another man who was retreating. He was only vaguely aware of the sounds of Magnus and Arne fighting behind him, their swords clashing with the attackers’ weapons. The man fell from his horse as the hammer smashed into his upper back, and Thor ran to retrieve her. There were three more, riding fast back into the forest, and he gave chase, hoping to find some clues to their path. He was perhaps thirty feet into the trees when he lost them, though, and returned to the road. Magnus was sprawled in the bed of the wagon, blood gushing in pulses from a deep gash in his thigh, Selby and Arne hovering over him, trying to slow it. Four attackers lay dead in the road, their horses dancing anxiously.

“Go,” he told them. “You’ll get to Eir all the faster without my weight in the wagon. Keep a torniquet tied tightly here -” he drew his belt tight above the wound - “and go as fast as you can. I’ll see to bringing the horses back.”

If the remaining bandits returned for the horses, which truly were magnificent creatures, proud and strong, Thor would be ready for them. He tied their reins one to the next, and seated himself on the front horse. It took all his will to hold her back, to not coax her into a gallop, but he wanted to make himself easy bait. He hitched Mjölnir easily on the pommel of his saddle, trying his best to look unthreatening.

It didn’t work, he reflected sadly, as he rode back into town, bringing four prize horses. Magnus had not survived the trip back to Orfjara, and it was agreed that the horses would go to his family, as their pretty sales price would feed the children for quite some time. They would need it, without a father.

Thor felt sad for the family, but another worry battled for his attention. When Loki had left, last time, he had been heading north towards home. When he returned for May Day, he would ride straight through the bandit-infested wood.


	11. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki arrives in town early, and Thor learns exactly what will be expected, as well as the horrific consequences of failure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't promise that things will be hunky-dory from here, but this is by far the worst chapter, emotionally. I apologize in advance for the last sentence in particular. In fact, if you're not feeling up for something grim and horrible, just read today's summary and tune back in tomorrow.

Loki rode back into Orfjara two days before the beginning of the May Day festivities. The journey between Jotunheim and Midgard has become so routine that he is now appearing just shortly outside the town, and it is only a few minutes’ wait before he can conjure his horse and bags unwitnessed. After settling his bags at the inn, which he was starting to think he should just buy, he went straight to the temple. He found Sif sitting at the desk in her outer chambers, writing busily. She looked up at the sound of his footfall. “My Lady Sif,” he bowed.

“My Lord Sølvgren. Please, make yourself comfortable,” she nodded to the seat in front of her. “I gather you are here to join the lottery?”

Lottery? He frowned slightly. “I am. And I gather-”

“-you did not make the journey for nothing,” she finished for him with a sudden grin. “Thor has already spoken to me, and everything is arranged.”

“I see, thank you. There won’t be any trouble that an outsider is the one to win the drawing?”

She shook her head. “There shouldn’t be. Others have put their name in, but it’s a fairly open secret that for a hierodore’s first year we try to make things as easy for them as possible. It’s enough of a challenge for them, even when they are with someone who makes them feel comfortable and safe.”

_Comfortable and safe._ Loki had grown accustomed, over the centuries, to giving many people many feelings about him, but this was a novelty. It pleased him more than he would ever have expected. When Thor had asked him to return for this, Loki had preened himself that Thor thought so well of him as a bed partner. He hadn’t even thought about how much trust the night might entail. He smiled contemplatively. “Might I see him, let him know that I’m here?”

“I’m sorry. The hierodores have three days of prayer before the ritual, and they see no one from outside the temple. I’ll tell him of your arrival, though. He will be glad of it.”

Loki rose. “Thank you, my lady.”

“You’re welcome. Please be here by late afternoon when you return to begin the celebrations.” Sif watched him walk away, her head tilted in thought. _If he isn’t as much in love with Thor as Thor is with him,_ she thought, _I’ll drink a hierodore’s bathwater._

Loki somehow managed to pass the evening without knowing what to do with himself. He started to take a walk, got annoyed with the setting sun in his eyes, and returned to the inn. He ordered dinner but it was flavorless and gone too quickly. He picked up a book but threw it down again after reading the same page four times. He thought to drink himself to sleep, but the beer had no savor. Finally, he deemed it late enough to go to bed and flung himself on the low mattress. How he would spend the entire next day, and much of the following one, he had no idea.

It turned out that he spent them in a foul temper, snapping at the servants and stomping around town, glaring at everyone he passed.

*****

Thor wanted to go for a walk to quell his nerves. He wanted to spend hours in the courtyard, swinging Mjölnir until he was too tired to think anymore. He wanted to do something besides sit and listen to hours of prayers in such archaic language that he barely understood them. Yet he wanted the prayers back when they ended, when Sif began to read to them about their duties for the night of the ritual itself. The temple had a copy of the address made by Freya in a time before writing, when it had to be passed down from mouth to mouth, before someone was finally able to record it. Sif’s voice was strangely impersonal, though her face looked sympathetic enough, as she began.

Thor quickly learned the reason for her detachment. It was indeed awkward, even for people in their area of service.

_“My faithful hierodores,”_ it began,

_“You are the means by which I receive offerings from my devotees. For this, I thank you. Today I grant you in return the opportunity to make your own offerings to me on the night of May Day from sundown to sunrise. Offerings from my devotees come to me through the smoke of the holy pyre, but your offerings of pleasure which I now demand shall be rewarded back to you. Your dedication shall be sent back into the soil, nurturing the roots of the young seedlings as they break through the surface. It shall feed them as they shall in turn feed you. Nor is it only your little deaths that will give life to the harvest. What I most desire is your selfless willingness to die them beyond all desire, the fealty that will drive you onwards when you would cease. It is this self-sacrifice that shall henceforth feed your people. Fail me and learn the meaning of famine. Please me and learn the meaning of plenty.”_

Thor sat, staring blankly, as the others rose and stretched before making their way out for the evening meal. With the amount of sitting for prayers, the stretching was even more welcome than the food, and people were eager to move their bodies. Thor was barely aware of them, though, lost in his thoughts.

The realization of what exactly was expected sank deep into him, and rose up again as nausea. He was accustomed enough to providing services to devotees, but the more specific demands that were placed on his body were somewhat limited. He was not expected to climax every time, which he was glad of, as his work proved demanding enough without it, and he certainly wasn’t expected to go all night. Four or five hours was the most asked of any hierodore in a single day, and that was uncommon enough.

But this time he would have to, over and over, and the nights were nearly ten hours long this time of year. _Or there would be famine._ Thor started as a warm hand settled on his shoulder. Sif looked down at him, pityingly.

“Last winter,” he said unsteadily, “when I was sent to the inn to fetch mead for our Freyasday night’s meal, I saw a small figure on the road before me. It walked slowly, stopping sometimes to rest before continuing. As I drew near, it stopped to lean against a fence, and then just… fell to the ground. I ran, but it was too late. I am a warrior, I am no stranger to death. But the death of children… I would that were still foreign to me. _I watched a child starve to death before my eyes,”_ he bit out, _“and now I learn that if I fail tomorrow, I will be the cause of such things?”_

Sif nodded sadly. “It was Ragnfrid,” she said. “She approached me in the break from prayers in the day after, needing to unburden herself. She had felt she could not continue, and began to weep in exhaustion. The devotee who was with her took pity and let her rest the remainder of the night. I had to expel her from the temple.”

“We have no rest at all?” Thor’s eyes shot upwards. He was building up a grim determination to do his best, but there were physical realities that could not be denied.

“You can when you truly need it,” she said. “But no more. ”

“So this Ragnfrid,” he continued. “She was the one responsible for the winter’s hunger? So much suffering laid upon her head, simply because she wanted to rest?”

“It went against the word of Freya. She broke her vow.”

“But why would she demand this of us? It’s...” his voice trailed off.

Sif sighed. “We are devoted, but we are not blind to the fact that our lady is mercurial. Nor can a goddess of war be truly kind. For that matter, neither can a goddess of love. Both are cruel things, and if her demands are cruel, she had to steal from the Norns to give us such cruel opportunity. The harvest used to be entirely in their hands. It is harsh, but it gives us power that we once did not have. The power to feed our people is in our hands as much as it is in the hands of the farmers, Thor. We should be grateful.”

Thor’s voice was bitter. “You say _we_ , but this is not expected of you.”

“No, it is not. And that in itself is a cruelty, to watch others bear this burden and be so little able to help them.”

“There is any help?” he asked coldly.

“You already know about the potion,” she said. “It helps rouse the ardor. A goblet-full will be provided to each of you to ease the start.”

A potion. A potion to _ease_ things. He supposed he should be grateful, but could not find it in himself. His only answer to her was to stare pointedly at the hand on his shoulder. She left it there another moment, and then was gone.

Thor stood, about to follow the others to dinner, but his thoughts jumbled, the vision of the dead child blurring sickeningly with thoughts of unceasing sex, and he ran outside to vomit.


	12. May Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters today! I gave them the most suitable split for people who don't have time to read 11k at once, but I think they're best read together.
> 
> I started this story intending it to be PWP until it exploded on me, and these two chapters are basically the core that everything else grew from. Enjoy.

Loki found Thor, sitting on the steps waiting for him, staring the wrong way down the road and chewing on his lip. Loki crept up behind him and planted a loud kiss on the top of his head. Thor’s head tilted back, a smile covering it as he looked up at Loki. “Sif told me you came. Thank you,” he said. Despite the smile, his voice sounded thin with anxiety.

“I told you I would,” Loki scolded gently.

“I never doubted you, but there have been brigands on the road to Brautarholt.”

“It would take more than that to stop me. But your concern will not go... unrewarded.”

Thor stood, towering over Loki from his position on the steps, and held out his hand. “Shall we go inside? They’ve finished setting everything up.” Loki took his hand, the palm sweaty, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Thor cast him a grateful look as they walked inside together.

They went silently to Thor’s chambers, where the table was covered with a spread of fruits, light pastries, a decanter, and two goblets, one of them already filled with a noxious-smelling liquid. Loki glanced at Thor to see his chest beginning to heave. It was a familiar enough sight in itself, but the worried face above it was new. “Shhh,” Loki coaxed. “I’m a little nervous too, you know.”

Blue eyes shot up to green ones. “You are?”

“Oh, yes.” Loki lied smoothly. “I don’t really know any more of what I’m supposed to be doing than what you told me the last time we were together.”

“I was told… you can do whatever you like. I’m supposed to-” -his voice dropped to a shy whisper- “ _-spend_ as much as possible, but it’s up to you how to go about that. There was a horror story being passed around about a girl a few years ago who got someone who demanded that she use her fingers all night while he sat and watched. No matter how tired she got, she wasn’t allowed to stop.”

Loki’s rebellious mind conjured images of Thor doing just that. Thor’s torso covered in white streaks, face twisted as his exhausted hand continued to work himself, over and over, the red bell of his cock purpling from hours of unrelenting use… he forced his thoughts back to the present before letting himself become too enamored of the thought. “That’s not what we’ll be doing, don’t worry.” _Not today, anyway._ “How do we know when the ceremony is supposed to begin?”

“They’ll ring a chime when I’m supposed to drink the potion, then another will sound for us to, you know.”

Loki smiled at Thor’s reluctance to actually speak about what they’d be doing, despite the vigorous enthusiasm he’d always shown in the past about actually doing those things. _One more way to enjoy you._ “Here, sit down and lean back, darling,” he ordered, forcing his voice to remain nonchalant as he tested out the new word.

Thor’s eyes widened - whether at the endearment, or at the direction itself, Loki couldn’t tell - but he obeyed wordlessly. Loki stood behind him and cool fingers slid his eyes shut. “Shhhhh,” he soothed again. “Just relax.”

Loki softly brushed over his face, rubbing gentle circles over the temples, down his nose, tender pulses downward over his cheekbones. He slid his hands into Thor’s rich hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and feeling the tension slowly drain out of the muscles. It did _not_ make him ache inside to see the worry that remained on Thor’s face, it _didn’t._ He hated to see this dread, simply because wasn’t so kind to his ego. _That’s all._

“Thor,” he said softly, “I understand what the ritual is meant to be, but there can’t be any harm in taking it a little easy, this year.”

“No,” Thor said, determined. “Whatever I say later, promise me that we’ll do what we have to do.”

“Thor,” Loki sighed. “This isn’t all on you. I’m sure it’s all right-”

“No,” Thor said again. “It _is_ all on me, it’s all on all of us. We can’t have another winter like this last one, Loki, we can’t. I… I watched a child die on the street, right in front of me, of hunger. I always gloried in death when I was in battle, but a child… I can’t face that again, Loki, and this is all I can do to stop it. Promise me.” 

“All right. I promise.”

They looked at each other a moment before Loki leaned in to press soft lips against Thor’s. He was just beginning to deepen it when the first chime rang. Thor stiffened. “Well, here goes nothing,” he murmured against Loki, reaching forward for the filled goblet. “The decanter has wine for you, if you’d like to join me.”

Loki sat in the chair opposite Thor and poured wine for himself as he watched Thor take a tentative sip, followed by a revolted face and barely suppressed gag. “That good?” Thor glared at him.

Loki slid the wine across the table. “Here, we can share this.”

“It’s kind of you, but I’m all right. I just have to get this over with.” Thor braced himself and tossed the entire cupful down his throat. It was followed by even more determined gagging noises.

“I really must insist, Thor. I’d rather you not taste like that stuff all night, nor would I enjoy being interrupted by you running out to be sick.”

At least Thor had sense enough to be persuaded by Loki’s sense, if no more. He took a sip, swirled it around his mouth, swallowed, and drank a few more sips before passing it back. “I thank you, that’s much better.”

Loki might be a liesmith, but he knew this was one promise he would enjoy keeping. Yes, there were many worse ways to pass a night than in making sure Thor spent as much as he could, and Loki intended it to start the moment the chime sounded. His lips curled upward as he took a single gulp of wine before rising and planting himself in Thor’s lap, straddling the broad thighs and delighting in the firm muscles under him and before him. He reached forward and ran his hands over Thor’s bare chest, thumbs catching slightly on the nipples as though by accident. 

Leaning in, he dodged Thor’s mouth moving for a kiss and instead ran his tongue along his throat, biting at the pulse that raced beneath his lips. Loki trailed kisses up and caught Thor’s earlobe, biting and sucking on it and grinning as he felt the first stirrings of interest beneath Thor’s kilt. The potion was taking hold quickly. Loki raised up onto his knees to press his lips against Thor’s eyelids, down again to press a tongue tip into the shell of his ear, back to his face, all over his face, yes, then finally down to catch the mouth that reached up for him.

Loki grabbed the back of Thor’s head to press more firmly against him, tongues coaxing the desire from each other. Loki felt himself hardening as Thor whimpered into him and reached rough hands up to fight with the buttons of Loki’s shirt. “Mmm, I like this eagerness,” he purred into Thor’s ear.

“Please, Loki,” Thor panted. “Off.”

“Oh, I will. But first, we’re going to play a little game.” Thor whined again as Loki grasped his hands and moved them back to his sides. “You’ve been so reluctant to talk about what, exactly, it is that we do, but as I’m being _so_ nice in being here for you, I want you to do something for me in return. I want you to tell me what you like. _Exactly _what you like.” Loki nearly burst into laughter as Thor suddenly managed to look both completely wanton at Loki’s touch and utterly stricken at Loki’s words. “Too much?” He chuckled. “All right. How about you start by telling me something you like about me?... Do you like my hands?” He ran a hand over the thick bulge trapped in the cloth between them.__

__“I… yes.” Thor really was doing his best. It was adorable._ _

__“What do you like me to do with my hands?”_ _

__Thor flushed. “I like you to touch me.”_ _

__“Where? Like this?” Loki rested his hands on Thor’s biceps._ _

__“I like them on my chest…” Thor gasped as Loki ran his hands over his chest, palms circling on the nipples. “I like them on my cock,” another gasp as Loki’s hands came back to his lap, one taking hold of the shaft and the other rubbing at the head. “I like them on my ass, the way you grab and hold onto me when…” his voice trailed off. Loki took pity on him, and leaned forward, fingers massaging the sides of his ass and lips kissing his throat._ _

__“You’re doing so well, Thor. I’m proud of you. Now tell me, what else do you like about me?”_ _

__“I like your lips.” Thor licked his own and continued, knowing what the next question would be. “I like when we kiss, and I like how you use them on my ears, and my throat, and... I like how you kiss my cock-” Loki had continued to do each thing that Thor said he liked, finally sliding to his knees on the floor and shoving the kilt upwards to plant a lingering kiss right over the slit on the head of Thor’s cock, taking his breath away._ _

__“And I like your cock.” Thor somehow managed to blush even harder. “I like how soft the skin of it is against my lips, and how it feels in my mouth, and when you... And I like your eyes,” he hurriedly concluded. “I like how they undress me when I’m dressed, and how they go deep inside me when I’m undressed, even deeper than any other part of you ever goes.”_ _

__Loki hovered above Thor as he murmured into his ear. “You know this pleases me, yes? That I love to hear you telling me what you like? Just feel what you do to me,” he said, rising up and dragging Thor’s hand into his own lap and forcing the strong fingers as far around his own cock as the tight fabric would allow. “And since you’re doing so well at this game, you may take my shirt off.”_ _

__Loki felt his blood heat at the desperate sound Thor made as he grabbed again for the buttons, so drunk with desire he could barely slip the thin discs free; after a moment of fumbling Loki took pity on him and his nimble fingers quickly finished the remaining buttons, letting the shirt hang open from his shoulders. He looked again at Thor’s face, and was pleased to see that all apprehension was now lost in the face of Loki’s teasing. He slid back, off Thor’s lap, and tugged him up to standing. He planted a trail of kisses down Thor’s chest, kneeling before him to slowly untie the simple kilt._ _

__Thor’s head hung heavy, drowsy with lust, and his hands tangling into Loki’s hair as Loki dropped the piece of linen to the ground and leaned forward to mouth Thor’s cock. After a moment of nibbling up and down the underside, he reluctantly stood and allowed Thor to continue undressing him. Thor shoved his shirt off him before moving on to his trousers, the soft black fabric clinging to slender, chiseled thighs tightly enough to give a little extra difficulty and force Thor to spend longer than he wanted on it. Finally, they both stood nude, torsos pressed together as their lips met, explored, and met again. Loki slid a hand between them and grasped both their cocks, working them together as one. He felt a drop of slickness sliding down from Thor’s slit just as Thor gasped into his mouth and began to drive his hips hard into Loki’s._ _

__Loki allowed Thor to rut against him a minute, luxuriating in the feeling of having such desire focused on him, before tugging him, slightly reluctantly, to the bed. He had a mental list of delicious things he wanted to do to Thor tonight, and he fully intended to mark everything off. He guided Thor onto his back, hands swirling over his chest, then moving lower, taunting and teasing, all around Thor’s hips and thighs as Thor writhed about, carefully avoiding everything that Thor was so desperately trying to shove into his hands._ _

__Loki finally lowered his mouth, first to Thor’s chest, and then down to his cock, pressing his closed lips against the head for a moment before opening and sliding down. Thor gasped and arched his back, one hand grabbing for the back of Loki’s head and the other, charmingly, reaching down to entwine his fingers with Loki’s as he tried - and failed - to hold back from thrusting upwards, shoving deep into Loki’s waiting mouth._ _

__Loki had not done this so fully before, and he choked, recovering quickly as he lifted back up until just the tip was still between his lips, wrapping one hand around the shaft to add sensation and prevent Thor from surging in too deep again. His cheeks puckered as he sucked hard, teasing open the little slit with the tip of his tongue and delighting in Thor’s gasp. He slowly began to move his head up and down again, carefully working up to take more and more with each stroke. He raised his eyes to Thor’s face to find Thor watching him with a look of wonder and desperate, desperate need. Thor’s breath began to hitch and Loki pulled away, smirking at the shuddering body beneath him._ _

__“Uh-uh-uh, not yet,” he admonished._ _

__“Gods, Loki, please,” Thor begged._ _

__Loki just sat, smiling at him until his breath started to calm, then lowered his head and took Thor back into his mouth. Loki continued taunting him, bringing him to the peak but never letting him over, until finally, the chime pealed out again. Loki took a deep breath, steeled himself, and plunged all the way down, Thor’s cock sliding past his tongue into his throat. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing calmly through his nose as he swallowed, frantically, over and over, and then Thor was shaking, so hard, so hot in his mouth, and Thor was crying out, babbling, “Loki, Loki, gods, please, Loki, yes, please yes,” as he shot his release down Loki’s throat. It was… interesting. Worth trying again, if only for the way Thor had sounded as the spend poured out of him._ _

__Thor’s body relaxed after that and he pulled Loki up against him in a warm embrace, wiping at the tears running down his face. “I’m not crying,” Loki snapped._ _

__“I didn’t think you were. That just happens to some people when they do that.”_ _

__“All right,” Loki grumbled, but he relaxed as Thor buried his nose in his hair and sniffed affectionately. It didn’t take long before his body began to respond to the delicate scent that Loki always seemed to exude, the potion still holding strong and making its own demands for how he should behave this night. Loki watched as the proud cock began to swell once more. His throat felt slightly sore, and he slid out from under Thor’s heavy arm to get his wine, hoping it would prove soothing. “While I drink this, how about you tell me exactly what it was that you liked about what I just did.” Thor grimaced slightly, but the potion had him panting with need again, and it made him malleable._ _

__“I liked how you took my cock into your mouth, and sucked it, and licked it, and I liked the way you took me all in, that’s not something easily done, but you did it for me, and I… I love that you did it for me.” Thor’s cock was bobbing already, thinking about Loki had felt._ _

__“Thank you-” Loki had meant to praise Thor but was overtaken by a coughing fit. At least the wine was making his throat feel better, if not as quickly as he had hoped. He took another sip. “You’re doing so well, trying so hard to please me, I think you deserve a reward, though I need to soothe my throat before you get it. In the meantime, I would like to watch how you enjoy yourself.”_ _

__Thor’s eyes shot to Loki’s, every emotion written on his face. Loki could see he was halfway to protesting, but the potion was burning in his veins, and he still looked so openly grateful for Loki’s amateur attempts at taking him into his throat. Thor bit back the complaint and nodded, laying back again and dipping his fingers into the bowl of sweet almond oil that sat in the nook next to the bed. “Do I have to talk while I…?”_ _

__“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Thor. But it would make me happy if you would do this for me.” Loki smiled. “And it’ll only be once, I’m not going to ask you to repeat the ‘horror story’ that you told me about. Though that sounds truly lovely, if you think might enjoy doing that for me one day.”_ _

__Thor swallowed hard and closed his eyes. He rubbed the oil between his palms and reached down to take his cock in both hands. The fingers of his right hand wrapped firmly around it, while the palm of the left cupped over the tip. He took another deep breath and began moving. Loki watched enraptured, wine forgotten, as Thor began to pump the right fist up and down while twisting the palm of his left hand. He went slowly at first, long even strokes that sped up with his breathing, becoming nearly brutal as his balls pulled up towards his body. Loki’s own cock began to weep at the sight and sounds, and Norns, the _scent_ that Thor was making, a rich and heady musk that perfumed the room. _ _

__Thor’s breath gave the telltale hitch and suddenly his left hand was no longer twisting on the head, it was running delicately over his lips as his right fist suddenly went so fast it was almost a blur, and then Thor was coming, thick heavy streams of white spurting out of him, and his lips were spilling at the same time, _“Oh, oh Loki,” _he breathed. He lay still, shuddering out the last pulses of pleasure that coursed through his body as Loki quickly set down his goblet. Thor opened his eyes just in time to see Loki pulling him up into his arms, chests pressed together, Thor’s spend smearing across their bellies and Loki’s face buried in Thor’s hair, mouth by his ear.___ _

____“You have nothing to be shy about, I know you’re shy but oh darling don’t be, you looked so beautiful as you spent for me, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful.”_ _ _ _

____Will-less, their lips sought each other blindly, clinging together in desperation as Loki twisted his torso back and forth, the spend slicking their skin together. Thor broke off their kiss in a gasp as Loki shifted slightly to make their nipples catch as he turned. Loki chased after him and ran his tongue delicately over Thor’s lips, thinking of the feathery touches he’d given them as he’d keened his pleasure. _Oh, oh Loki._ Even when pleasuring himself, the world hidden behind closed eyelids, it had been Loki he’d thought of._ _ _ _

____Loki gently pressed him back onto the mattress, cock throbbing as Thor grabbed him with one ankle and pulled Loki to kneel between his thighs. _In, in, he wanted in so desperately,_ but it was too soon, they had hours and hours yet and he didn’t want to ]wreck Thor, not permanently. He rose up on his knees and came forward to hover above the writhing, supine body beneath him, hands outside Thor’s shoulders, Thor curling upward to bite his way down Loki’s throat as his hips bucked up to rub their erections together, a low growl resonating through his teeth and deep into Loki’s chest. _Not his heart.__ _ _ _

____Loki tilted his chin to let Thor get at his earlobe, then teeth were sinking in and tugging and his mouth was sucking, and it sent a bolt of need straight through him. He sagged above Thor on hands and knees, head hanging and the breath shuddering from him in desperate gasps. “Stop, Thor,” he choked out._ _ _ _

____“Why? I know you want this, please, I need, I have to, you have to,” Thor murmured into the shell of his ear._ _ _ _

____“I know, me too, but we’ve got time, and there things I want to do to you first.”_ _ _ _

____Thor settled back at that, and lay staring up at Loki, his face burning at Loki’s words but his blue eyes clear with trust. Loki took a moment to let his head clear, then scooted back to kiss his way back down Thor’s body, running his tongue over the soft skin in his elbow, sinking teeth into the golden flanks that just taunted with their perfection, pinching gently at the skin of the inner thighs._ _ _ _

____“I want to look at you,” he whispered. “All of you. Grab your knees and pull them up for me.”_ _ _ _

____Thor obeyed, and Loki’s eyes darkened as they took in the sight before him, the massive warrior spread open and helpless before him, and the pure trust on Thor’s face as he made himself so vulnerable to Loki. “Ohhh,” he breathed as he leaned in to suck little marks into those legs, the hairs on the gorgeous thighs like spun gossamer that tickled his tongue, working from the knees up to the delicate skin where legs met pelvis._ _ _ _

____“Loki,” Thor moaned, his head tossing about helplessly on the pillow._ _ _ _

____Loki abandoned his control and bit his way, oh-so-gently, up and down the underside of Thor’s cock, the vein throbbing beneath his lips. On the third pass down, he extended a careful tongue and dragged it along the seam that ran down Thor’s balls. He used one hand to prop himself up while the other came up to caress the sack as he laved it with his tongue, alternating between broad strokes with the flat of his tongue and then drawing delicate patterns with the tip._ _ _ _

____He took his tongue away and smiled at Thor’s groan of desperation, before leaning back in, tongue pointed now and aiming lower, bringing it to rest on the tight coil of muscle. It seized under his touch, convulsing and squeezing with tension. “Shh, Thor, you know not to squeeze too soon,” Loki teased. He set up a rhythm, stroking it with the width of his tongue, blowing lightly across the wetness, drawing little circles, tracing the rim. Thor’s head thrashed frantically on the pillow, helpless moans pouring out of him, and Loki thrilled at them. Thor was still squeezing tight, making entry nearly impossible, but Loki was determined, and pressed harder and harder with the tip of his tongue until the resistance suddenly gave, and he was _in_ , he was _licking inside,_ and Thor was raggedly panting his name. He thrilled at the need that thrummed through Thor’s body, that sang in every desperate breath._ _ _ _

____He reached one hand over to the dish of oil and dipped just his fingertips, and brought them to Thor’s cock. He had meant to just add another layer of teasing, but the moment his fingers touched the throbbing bell, Thor bucked against him and came with a desperate, pleading moan._ _ _ _

____Loki gently guided Thor’s hands away from his knees and let him uncoil himself down onto the bed. Thor lay, panting and wasted. Loki stood up, patting him on the shoulder, and realized what was missing from the spread on the table. “They seriously didn’t give us any water?” he grumbled. Thor’s eyes tracked him across the room, not yet able to talk. He stalked to Thor’s closet and rummaged through until he found a robe he liked, and stamped out of the room, slamming the door behind him._ _ _ _

____At least there were plenty of servants hanging about the temple, even if they did seem to be a little more interested in listening to the soft sounds that crept out of the other rooms than they were in actually serving. A snap of his fingers brought someone scurrying to take Loki’s request, and a moment later the man was back with a brimming pitcher and two gray mugs. Loki took them with a sneer, and was barely able to bite back his laughter at the pitying glance the man sent through the wall towards Thor._ _ _ _

____Loki sat down on the side of the bed, pouring water for both of them and coaxing Thor into sitting up long enough to take a drink. His muscles shook under Loki’s hand, and Loki rose again to get him something to eat. “Fruit or tart?” he asked._ _ _ _

____“I’m really not hungry,” Thor said with a sigh as he collapsed onto his side._ _ _ _

____“Fruit then,” Loki said, a sharp grin creeping over his features. “You might not feel hungry, but you need to keep your energy up.” He put a few slices of something orange on a plate, added a handful of strawberries, and set it next to Thor’s face, staring at him pointedly._ _ _ _

____Thor glared back. Loki went to his knees by the bed and traced light butterfly kisses along the exposed flank, one hand coming up to gently stroke Thor’s cock. Just as it began to stir, Loki pulled away, stood, and let the robe fall open. “I know you want this,” he said softly. “You just have to earn it.”_ _ _ _

____Thor glared again, but quickly shoveled the fruit into his mouth, pupils dilating as Loki shrugged off the robe._ _ _ _

____Loki set the plate down and crawled over Thor, sinking down with his chest pressed to Thor’s back, his pale, slender body nestling into golden muscles. “Good job, darling, see how easy it is to earn rewards?”_ _ _ _

____He laid a hand on the back of Thor’s upper leg, taking a moment to admire the contrast, Thor the sun and Loki the moon, before gently guiding the leg forward. He fingers trailed down to the exposed entrance, pressing kisses into the back of Thor’s neck as he traced little circles over it, revelling in the whimpers it drew from Thor, _glorying_ in the feel of Thor pressing back against him, and finally letting one finger slide through that ring of tight heat, one knuckle at a time, giving Thor a chance to adjust before it was in to the hilt. Thor still pressed back, trying desperately to draw Loki somehow further in as Loki slowly twisted and curled his finger, trying to seek out the spot from an unfamiliar angle. Halfway through one curl, with his wrist held just so, it turned out._ _ _ _

____Thor stiffened and sobbed his need. Loki started to add a another finger, but the wetness from his tongue that had been enough to ease one finger was not enough for second. He slid out, making Thor gasp at the sudden loss, and turned to reach for the bowl of oil before stopping with a smile and turning back to Thor. He pressed an open mouthed kiss onto the shoulder before him, his lips soaking up the heat that radiated from it, and reached around to where the spend had slid down Thor’s stomach and puddled on the bed. Loki pressed his teeth into Thor’s skin as he scooped the puddle up onto his fingers. Thor, watching him, let out a sound that could have been either groan or growl or both, and whatever it was, it slammed through Loki, making his own cock throb even harder. He’d made it wait so long, delaying his own needs in favor of this careful taking apart of Thor, and now that he was almost done with waiting, his own urgency jumped to life._ _ _ _

____Loki slid two slick fingers gently but firmly into Thor, moving them around enough to make sure the entire passage was evenly coated, then setting up an even rhythm, sliding deeply in, then spreading and twisting them as he pulled back out. Thor lay still under his ministrations, only his heaving chest and wild eyes showing Loki how much he was being affected._ _ _ _

____“Tired already, Thor?” Loki teased. “The big strong warrior?”_ _ _ _

____“I had years of training before my first battle,” Thor panted. “But all this at once… there’s never been anything-” his voice caught as Loki suddenly added two more fingers._ _ _ _

____Loki’s hand moved harder, almost viciously shoving into Thor, who helplessly began thrusting back. “Look at you,” he murmured. “So wanton, spread out on my fingers like this, just desperate for me.” He leaned up to whisper into Thor’s ear. “You look so gorgeous, open for me like this. And the way you just _take_ it and let me do whatever I want with you, it makes me want to do everything with you. Tired as you are, if I wanted you standing, you’d fight to do it, your legs shaking under you as I thrust you, over and over, into the stone wall, you’d just let my cock hold you up, wouldn’t you, darling? You’d give every ounce of yourself to please me-”_ _ _ _

____“Fuck, Loki,” Thor groaned. “I would. Please, I would have you enjoy this, too, please, yes...”_ _ _ _

____Loki always did like to be begged. He slid his hand free, ignoring Thor’s whine, and quickly oiled his cock. He held it against Thor’s entrance for a moment, teasing and enjoying Thor’s frantic motions, trying to tilt his hips back to drive Loki into him. Steadying his cock with his free hand, he sank his teeth hard into the vertebra just below the nape of Thor’s neck and simultaneously bucked forward, his cock embedded to the hilt. They both froze for a moment, Thor too stunned to move at first, Loki in awe, yet again, at the perfect way Thor fit around him, so hot and tight, almost but never quite too tight, too hot._ _ _ _

____Thor was the one who broke their stillness. His hand clamped to the edge of the bed, bracing himself, as he thrust his hips back, trying desperately to get Loki further, deeper in, and Loki’s own hips pressed forward as though they were controlled entirely by the need that raged through his cock. He had meant to take this slowly, letting the pleasure build, but the sensations were too much to control after how long he had denied himself, and he drove into Thor frantically, gritting his teeth as Thor continued to drive back against him._ _ _ _

____“This position… was _meant_... to give you a bit of a break,” he choked out against Thor’s neck._ _ _ _

____“Do you want me to stop?” Thor gasped back._ _ _ _

____“No.”_ _ _ _

____They continued to slam their bodies together, Thor letting go of the mattress to draw his knees up to his chest, his motions subtler now, without the ability to brace himself, but it meant Loki could go even deeper, so far inside Thor, and Thor just took it and _loved it,_ and Loki was gasping and jerking and there were stars in Thor’s hair and stars on Thor’s skin and the room was full of stars and he was suddenly emptying himself, cock pulsing as it unleashed his pleasure, and Thor must have felt the waves of white heat because suddenly he was clenching down on Loki, muscles taut and trembling as he spilled against his own chest._ _ _ _

____They slumped against each other, Loki’s arm around Thor’s chest, Thor with his fingers entangled in Loki’s as they slowly came down. Loki’s cock softened and gently slid free, bringing a small whimper from Thor as he felt himself empty. He brought Loki’s hand to his mouth, ignoring the cooling spend that covered it, and pressed kiss after kiss upon it._ _ _ _


	13. May Day continues

Thor held Loki’s hand to his mouth, covering it in kisses, wishing he had the strength to roll over and do the same to Loki’s face.

“That was… Loki, I can’t even move,” he groaned.

Loki’s silent laughter vibrated through his chest as he gently nibbled on Thor’s nape.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to recover, then.”

Thor sighed happily as Loki eased his hand loose and pulled their bodies back together where they’d fallen slightly away during their pleasure. He drew idle circles over Thor’s chest, his belly, his arms, nibbling affectionately on his neck. Thor had not felt so warm and cared for since his childhood - though that had been the result of a _very_ different type of care - and he felt his thoughts grow bleary as his eyelids fell shut. He’d done his duty, and now he could sleep in this soft embrace, doubly content.

Until the light teeth turned from cozy to hungry. Until the broad circles shrank into tight rings over his nipples. Until Loki’s breathing sped with growing urgency. Until Loki’s cock was growing hard against his leg, and Loki was rising up and pulling him onto his back and crawling onto him.

“I was falling asleep,” Thor protested.

“I wasn’t,” Loki said. “And if you’ll recall, I’ve only taken my pleasure once this evening.”

He spoke mildly, but the gleam in his eyes made his intentions perfectly clear. And he certainly had been putting off his own needs while tending to Thor, there was no denying it. Thor nodded in agreement.

“How would you have me?”

Loki grinned. “I’d have you begging for it, of course,” he said as he lowered his head to Thor’s chest and took one nipple between his teeth, suckling on it with just the right amount of teeth to make Thor arch his back with a gasp. He worked it, laving with the width of his tongue and twisting the other with stern fingers, switching just as Thor was beginning to adjust to the intensity of the sensations.

It wasn’t that that finally made his cock begin to stir, though. Well, not directly. As he moaned and tossed, he felt Loki’s own urgency begin to build, and soon Loki was moaning back into him and moving his hips, rubbing himself on Thor’s leg. Thor didn’t even realize that he was responding so until he felt his cock bob up against Loki’s chest. The only sign that Loki even noticed it was one hand reaching up for the bowl of oil while he continued to bite and squeeze, and then he was stroking down Thor’s length.

Loki lifted himself up then, purring as he watched Thor’s cock stiffen and redden under his ministrations. Thor blushed as their eyes met, and the smirk on Loki’s face said that he was, indeed, going to have to beg for it if he wanted relief. There was no real point in delaying it.

“Loki, I beg you.”

“Hmmm? What’s that?” Loki asked it cheerily. No mercy this time, then.

“Take me,” he groaned.

“Take you where? It’s the middle of the night, Thor, nice people are asleep right now. Nothing’s open. Even the public room at my inn is closed by now.” No, no mercy at all. Thor refrained from pointing out that he was, in fact, a nice person falling asleep when Loki started this.

“All right, then… fuck me,” he whispered.

Loki looked thoughtful. _Oh no,_ Thor thought. _He’s going to make me say it again, louder._ But then he smiled happily.

“Oh! You should have said something,” he chirped. _Chirped._ He was certainly the most infuriating man Thor had ever met. It was lucky he was also the most gorgeous.

“How shall I have you?” he mused out loud. “Hmmm… I think I’ll have you bent over a chair until your legs give out, and then I’ll have you on your back with your knees over my shoulders. Yes, that sounds best,” he concluded.

Thor felt like his legs might give out at the very thought, but he managed to stand at Loki’s urging and stumbled to the closest chair. He was beginning to drape himself over the back when Loki caught his arm and held him a moment while placing a roll of clothing over the thin edge of the wooden back, cushioning Thor’s stomach. Thor felt his chest swell at the kindness and turned to press a deep, lingering kiss on Loki’s lips before positioning himself to receive him, hands braced on the arms of the chair and feet planted firmly apart.

He was still open and so, so, wet as Loki slid easily into him, one hand on Thor’s upper back to hold him bent forward and one on Thor’s hips to pull him back. Thor tensed his arms, readying them to bear the brunt of Loki’s passion, but instead Loki remained still, breath tickling the hair around Thor’s ear.

“Squeeze, Thor. I know how beautifully those sweet muscles can move, and I find I want to enjoy them fully. _Milk me,”_ he growled.

Thor sobbed. He was aware that his muscles reacted to his own pleasure, but he certainly wasn’t used to controlling and manipulating them to any real extent. His first efforts were stumbling and clumsy, but Loki kissed up and down his spine, pressing his lips to every vertebra he could reach, whispering encouragement and hissing his satisfaction every time Thor did something well. Thor found it excellent motivation, and learned quickly under such tutelage. He could feel Loki’s breath speeding up against his back as Loki reached his hand around and began stroking him again, letting him get close and then drawing away, over and over, until Thor’s knees were buckling under him and Loki was pulling out.

Loki’s arms wrapped around his waist and urged him to stand, half-carrying him back to the bed where Thor sank down gratefully, letting his legs fall open for Loki to settle between them. Loki quickly did, and placed first one knee and then the other over his shoulders before sliding back inside, active now, murmuring what sounded suspiciously like endearments into Thor’s thigh as he thrust into Thor, who lay helpless before the onslaught.

“Touch yourself for me,” he whispered. “My hands are rather busy holding me up, and I’d like to watch you again.”

Thor plunged one hand downwards, grasping and twisting as he strove for his own completion. It proved elusive, his body happy enough to respond but less willing to grant the energy needed for him to spend. Loki’s face was pinched with the tension of holding off his own pleasure as he waited for Thor. He worked his hand harder, almost violently, as he began to sob in frustration.

“Shhh, it’s all right, Thor,” Loki comforted, albeit through gritted teeth. “It’ll happen, don’t worry.”

“But I’m so close, and I just can’t…” he sobbed.

“Don’t worry,” Loki urged again. “Here-”

Loki shifted Thor’s legs down to wrap around his waist and lowered himself to rest on one elbow, freeing up one hand. His hips kept up their same steady, delicious pace as he lowered his face towards Thor’s and before Thor could reach upwards for a kiss, he was licking all over Thor’s lips, so delicately, the way he’d seen Thor touch them earlier with butterfly fingers.

“Your hand,” Loki whispered. “Don’t stop just because I moved you.”

Thor began to work himself again, finally, finally growing closer, and yet it was still so far away, and his muscles were so taut that they were beginning to scream at him, and how could he even focus on his pleasure when his entire body was starting to hurt, and then Loki shifted slightly above him and he felt a finger join the cock inside him, and it was impossible, there was no way that stretch could happen, but it was, and it was delicious, and then the finger was _beckoning,_ coaxing the pleasure out of him, and it was so good, so perfect, even better for how long he’d had to wait for it, and he looked up at Loki and he was all he could see and he was keening as he bucked helplessly upwards, exploding to a vision of green eyes and black hair and knowing smile.

His body was still convulsing as he felt Loki let go and sag against him as his own pleasure came. Loki lay on top of him a moment, foreheads pressed together, before carefully sliding out of Thor and lowering himself to his side, one arm still around Thor’s heaving chest, holding him quietly and peacefully as he hummed his happiness into Thor’s shoulder.

Loki gave him a moment to rest and breathe before gentle hands began to stroke long, soothing passes down his body. It was sweet and kind, and right now, Thor couldn’t possibly think of anything better, until Loki leaned down to kiss him, no firmness or demands, just delicately pressing their lips together. Loki’s lips were thin, but Thor thought they were perfect. Everything was perfect. Then one of the hands stopped at his cock and began palming it at the same moment the kisses turned insistent and demanding, and it wasn’t perfect at all.

“Please, Loki, no more, I can’t.” Tears of exhaustion sprang up in Thor’s eyes.

“Shh, Thor, you can, I know you can, you’re doing so well, and I’m so proud-”

“No! Please, please don’t make me,” he whimpered.

Loki sat back. “All right, if that’s what you want. I’ll remind you first that you asked me to promise not to stop. But if you ask me to break this promise, I will.”

Thor thought of the desperate winter and let out a sob. “You’re right. I can’t stop, it’s just so hard, and I don’t know how to...” his voiced trailed off.

“You don’t know how to let it out?” Thor nodded. “Would it help if you could at least tell me to stop, even if you don’t mean it?” Thor thought a moment, and nodded again. “All right. You can say no, and stop, and you can fight me, but I’ll keep going unless you say… how about ‘sandstorm?’ Then I’ll know that you really mean for me to stop, and it’s more than you letting out your feelings.”

“Sandstorm. Yes, I can do that.”

“And I’m stronger than I look, Thor, so if you feel the need to fight, you can. You won’t hurt me.”

Thor looked up at Loki gratefully. Could he really have endured this with another else? The potion was completely worn off now, and it was only Loki’s own desire and determination that kept them going. He looked another moment, then closed his eyes.

“I’m ready.”

A cool finger slipped into him.

Thor clenched his eyes shut as Loki went straight to the sweet spot and began drawing little circles over it, tapping with his fingertip, pressing, and it was as though Loki was somehow pressing through the spot and forcing Thor’s cock back into an erection, and he couldn’t, he wasn’t ready for more. Panic rose up in his chest and threatened to overwhelm him. He shoved Loki away with a foot planted on his chest, feeling a twinge of guilt as Loki’s head slammed back into the stone wall, but Loki just grinned at the sharp cracking sound. 

He closed his eyes and fought to swallow down the surge of terror that was still threatening to overtake him, barely aware of the sounds of Loki rising from the bed and rummaging through his closet.

He _was_ aware, though, of Loki’s hands suddenly wrapping a piece of cloth around one wrist, dragging it down to the mattress above his head and fixing it to the leg of the bed. He punched blindly, landing blows on Loki’s chest and shoulders, but they seemed to roll off like water. Another flare of panic welled up as he realized how weakened his muscles had become through this ordeal. He was barely able to fight when Loki tied down his other arm, instead closing his eyes again as though he could deny what was happening if only he couldn’t see it.

The room went still and silent then, and Thor finally opened his eyes to see Loki staring down at him pensively. Their eyes met, Thor’s holding a silent question.

“I’m just trying to decide what to do with you. Should I tie down your legs and have my way, or leave them free so you can keep struggling against me?” His smooth voice now sounded serpentine, dangerous, and Thor felt his stomach contract. “How about I leave one free, so you can’t hinder my work too much, but you’re still able to shift around and get... comfortable?” Yes, those green eyes were exactly like a snake’s, and as Loki knelt at the foot of the bed Thor began kicking at him, trying to shove him off, away, _away from me._ Loki just chuckled and grabbed Thor’s left ankle while he rose up to kneel on the right, pinning it down. He leaned over and quickly lashed Thor’s left leg down to the bed, before standing up again to look down at his handiwork.

Thor lay still, trying to master his breathing as they warily watched each other. Loki had obviously enjoyed their wrestling match, his cock jutting proudly upward. Thor could almost see the heat coiling off it, heat he’d stolen from Thor’s own body, Loki’s body was cool, always so cool…

He kicked outward as Loki stepped forward, catching him in the stomach and forcing the air out of him with a grunt. “I’ll just hold onto this then, shall I?” he hissed as he knelt down between Thor’s knees. His free hand went to the bowl of oil, and he took _so much_ this time, despite the wetness that already filled Thor. Still, when he slithered back inside, it was just one finger, and it continued the earlier rhythm as though there had been no interruption. Little circles, pressing, tapping, until Thor’s treasonous cock began to bob against his stomach.

 _Another._ Thor didn’t want it, wanted nothing but to be left alone, and yet he couldn’t deny the pleasure that was beginning to spiral up inside him, turning his breathing from frightened to eager. His body began to tremble as Loki slid in a third finger, muscles giving out and his lifted leg slumping down in Loki’s hold. Loki stopped the teasing pattern inside him and began sliding in and out, faster and faster as his own breath got louder and rougher.

 _Another._ “Loki,” he gasped. No response, no reaction on that face, so calm, as though his breathing weren’t almost as harsh as Thor’s now. Four fingers, and despite how much he’d already taken, he still felt impossibly open as Loki began to spread them, kneading his knuckles against Thor’s insides.

“I’ll have to do this again on a sunny day, Thor,” he said. “Do you know how open you are? I wonder how far I could see inside you. I’ll bend you over on hands and knees in a sunbeam until I’ve worked you open and the light spills down into you. Well here, aren’t I being silly?” he added brightly. “Of course you can tell how open you are - here-” he leaned down and blew a stream of air up, through his fingers. It tickled and caressed, and Thor’s body went limp with pleasure, not even able to shove his hips towards Loki.

Loki chuckled and patted Thor’s thigh that he held grasped under his arm. “I think I can let go of this now, don’t you?” He twisted awkwardly as his free hand reached for the bowl of oil, taking a careful scoop into his palm and drizzling it over his hand, narrowing his fingers to let it spill down inside Thor. It was warm, so close to his own temperature he could barely feel it, and it was delectable as it ran through him and made him even wetter.

Loki planted a kiss on Thor’s knee and smiled at him. The fingers began sliding into him again, collapsed together now, and it felt so relaxed after the earlier stretch that he let out a sigh… until the fingers were all the way in, and kept going. He hadn’t even noticed the thumb carefully tucked into the middle, but as the width of Loki’s hand began to breach him he reacted in panic.

He thrashed about, free leg kicking wildly and yelling. “No, no, stop, get away from me, STOP!” A hand grabbed his ankle and shoved it roughly down to the bed, but the other hand, _that hand,_ was gentler as it slid slightly back out, only perhaps half an inch but enough to calm the fear that sped through him.

“Do you remember your word, Thor?” Loki asked him quietly. Thor gasped for air. Yes, he remembered the word, and he wanted to say it, wanted to yell, _sandstormsandstormsandstorm,_ but even as he thought that, he knew he wouldn’t, couldn’t do it. Had to keep going.

“Do you remember it?” Loki insisted. “We’re not doing anything else until I know you remember your word.”

“I remember it,” Thor answered. “And I’m not going to say it.”

Their eyes met and held a moment before Loki nodded acknowledgement, pressing another kiss into Thor’s leg and taking one of Thor’s hands with his own.

Then he was sliding back in, so huge, there was no way Thor could take it, but he had to, he was, but he was screaming in terror and anger and an edge of pain, and he squeezed hard on the fingers that were intertwined with his own as he tried to focus all his thoughts on breaking Loki’s hand, which was surely only fair, “Stop, stop, stop, stop, no, no, no, _nonononononoooooo-”_ he howled, before his scream cut off as he felt something give and and then his opening was clamping down on Loki’s wrist.

Loki was pressing his lips over and over onto Thor’s knee, his lashes sparkling slightly as they met Thor’s, and they glowed with compassion. “You took that so well, my darling, so, so well,” he murmured incessantly into Thor’s hot skin. Thor stared at him in wonder. He had never been so helpless before another, so entirely at their mercy, and as he looked at Loki’s eyes again, he wondered how he could have ever found them snakelike. No, they were like the sun, so warm, Thor could have basked in them forever, he could be naked in winter and just this memory would keep him warm.

Then Loki began to gently move his hand, and oh, it was _glorious, _the press against his ring as Loki pulled oh-so-carefully back before sliding forward again, the delicate shifting of the fingers as they twisted and curled sending white-hot joy through him, and all the time, Loki watching his face, making sure he was all right.__

__Thor moaned helplessly as Loki, with near-unbearable slowness, pulled his hand into a fist and drew it so carefully back and again forward, each time a little more forward, and he could feel himself stretching again as Loki slowly slid, impossibly, further in. Thor could feel his pulse deep inside him as it beat against Loki’s hand. He had never in his wildest dreams imagined that anything could be so close, so intimate, and he wiggled around, drawing his free leg up and away, gasping at the way it let Loki glide forward even as it eased the burning pressure at his entrance._ _

__“I can see my hand inside you, Thor,” Loki whispered, pressing his free hand down, so gently, on Thor’s belly. “I can feel it.”_ _

__Thor moaned and felt himself drawing close, so close, and he began to work his hips, undulating around the sinuous hand inside of him, trying and failing to gasp Loki’s name as he bucked downward. In the intensity, he hadn’t even noticed that his erection was gone, but now he realized it, and of course it was gone, this pleasure wasn’t just sexual, it was everything, and as he came now it was honey and sunshine and and music and laughter and green green eyes and it was everything and Loki was everything, Loki was _everything.__ _

____He collapsed back on the bed, vaguely trying to catch his breath but mostly just focused on staring at Loki, who was, he realized, still holding his hand. “Did I hurt your hand?” Thor asked as soon as he could talk._ _ _ _

____Loki’s lips twitched. “No, I told you you couldn’t hurt me. Don’t worry.”_ _ _ _

____“All right, good.” A huge grin crept over his face. “Loki, that was, that was…” Thor lost himself in laughter. There were no words to say how he felt, he could only let this welling joy bubble outward to drench Loki with his happiness. Loki’s face took on a strange cast, looking oddly shaken, and Thor was reaching up and pulling him down to cover him in kisses when a sharp pressure reminded him that they were still very much attached._ _ _ _

____Loki laughed quietly. “You just relax and close your eyes for me while I take care of this, all right? Deep breaths,” he cautioned._ _ _ _

____Thor nodded, his own laughter calming, and he settled back against the pillows. He felt Loki shifting around, and then more of the oil drizzling around his opening, Loki’s hand moving in slightly to drag the wetness into the tight passage, and then growing pressure that lasted just long enough to make his heart beat hard again and his breaths become jerky, before Loki’s free hand was on his thigh. “Deep breaths, yes?” Thor nodded and focused on his breathing as the pressure grew until there was a stretch and a sear of heat running through him, and then it was over and Loki’s fingers were slipping away from him._ _ _ _

____He lay still, humming with contentment as Loki tended to him, untying his wrists and ankles and pressing kisses upon his eyelids. He dozed off briefly as Loki bustled around the room, feeling sated and coddled. He peeled open groggy eyes as his shoulder was jiggled by a hip, to see Loki standing over him with another plate and cup of water._ _ _ _

____“Here, you should really have something else after that.”_ _ _ _

____Thor scooted around to sit across the bed, leaning against the wall, hips curled up as it was becoming _quite_ difficult to sit normally. He took the offered snack, setting the plate on his lap and reaching for Loki. Loki settled next to him, sitting higher up. Thor leaned against him with a happy sigh, resting his head on Loki’s chest and affectionately snuffling the light dusting of dark hair._ _ _ _

____“Your cakes, Thor. Eat them.” Loki’s words were gruff, but his hand crept up to stroke Thor’s hair as he said them. Thor planted a sloppy kiss on Loki’s nipple before enthusiastically cramming entire pastries into his mouth at once, dropping crumbs all over Loki’s lap, earning him an exasperated sigh. Thor just smiled again. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Loki was at his most stern and harsh when he was trying to hold back his feelings, and Thor had never known anything quite so charming. And it was going to be most rewarding to get the crumbs cleaned up when he was done eating._ _ _ _

____When there was one little cake left, Thor realized something. “Oh, you should have some, too.”_ _ _ _

____“I had some berries while you slept, and more wine. I’m fine, Thor,” he said, sounding a little irritated._ _ _ _

____Thor bobbed his head cheerfully, his “All right,” half-lost in a blur of crunching. Yes, he was going to have quite a lot of cleaning up to do. He sat upright, quickly downed his water, and hurled the mug and plate against the far wall, very much liking the satisfying smash. He pressed more sloppy kisses against Loki, covering his face and lips with damply boisterous affection. Loki glared at him and wiped the slobber off his cheek, though he also, Thor noticed, gave his lip a quick swipe with his tongue when he thought Thor wasn’t looking._ _ _ _

____Thor’s body was singing, floating above the earth, and now all his worry and fear was gone, because Loki was here and Loki would take care of him, he needn’t ever have worried. He knew better now, and he wanted so badly to tell Loki, but didn’t have the words, they just weren’t his realm. But he knew what was. He kissed wetly down Loki’s chest and was lapping up the crumbs that had coated his legs and belly. His cock, too, but Thor decided to save that for last, licking everywhere but the one spot that Loki suddenly, prominently, wanted cleaned._ _ _ _

____“Thor, lay back,” Loki murmured, pressing gently on his shoulder._ _ _ _

____He didn’t want to lay back. He wanted to bury his face in Loki’s lap, adore him, make him feel how much he meant to him. All the things a hierodore couldn’t say to a devotee, he wanted to make Loki feel. He resisted as Loki pressed harder, Thor instead opening his mouth and gliding down over him, feeling a thrill run through Loki’s body as it went rigid under him._ _ _ _

____He was just working up a perfect rhythm when Loki grabbed his head to hold it in place, and, shockingly, pinched his nose shut._ _ _ _

____“All right, perhaps you’ll listen to me now, since I won’t let you have any air until you agree?” he asked sweetly._ _ _ _

____“Mmpf!” Thor desperately tried to nod his agreement._ _ _ _

____“You’ll lay back, like I asked, yes?”_ _ _ _

____Thor made a noise that must have been agreeable enough, because Loki released his hold, and Thor pulled back, gasping for air._ _ _ _

____“I can’t believe you did that to me,” he said, stunned._ _ _ _

____“I’m only doing what you made me promise,” Loki answered, even more sweetly, and batting his eyelashes at Thor. Thor was torn between laughter and agreement. He chose both, flopping back as his chest heaved with his amusement._ _ _ _

____Loki’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he climbed his way up the bed so that he was on hands and knees above Thor, but they quickly darkened with desire as he lowered his lips to Thor’s. His tongue was insistent and demanding as it explored Thor’s mouth, whose own tongue thrust up to meet it. Thor was vaguely aware that Loki was doing something besides kissing him, but when he tried to move his head to look, Loki bit his tongue and held on determinedly. Loki’s teeth were very sharp, and Thor liked being able to eat solid foods, so he quit his attempts._ _ _ _

____The next thing he knew, an oiled hand was stroking down over him, gently coaxing, and Thor was just beginning to think that surely he’d hit the end of that “as much as possible” he’d been told to strive for, when Loki began panting into his mouth, and he felt felt himself begin to stir. That was really all it took, even after how well he’d already been used, he thought wryly. Faint stirrings became much more determined as Loki encouraged him._ _ _ _

____“Just one more time, just for me… I know you can, Thor, oh, darling, you feel so wonderful…”_ _ _ _

____Thor closed his eyes to focus. Yes, he so desperately wanted to please Loki, do anything for him-_ _ _ _

____-his lids flew open as he felt something utterly, completely new. Loki had taken a firm hold of Thor’s shaft, and was pressing it against his entrance. Thor looked up to see his face, taut with concentration as the pressure gave and Thor was inside Loki. Loki’s own eyes were shut as he slowly worked himself lower and lower until he was completely seated on Thor’s hips. It took every ounce of self-control for Thor to hold still and not thrust up roughly into him, so incredibly tight, and slightly cool even here._ _ _ _

____Loki’s lashes fluttered as he opened his eyes. The look on his face was vaguely astonished, and Thor could only nod helplessly, sure his face was the same._ _ _ _

____“I-” Loki just managed to gasp out._ _ _ _

____Thor gazed up at him. “Me, too.”_ _ _ _

____Then Loki began to move, so slowly, lifting up and sliding back down, twisting his hips in circles, all so careful that Thor bit his lip and forced himself to stay still. This was like… it wasn’t like anything else, ever, not really. The women who visited the temple were never interested in having him this way, and the men wanted to be the ones to enter Thor, whether his mouth or ass, but they’d never taken him like this. Part of him regretted it, wished he knew more to make it good for Loki, but oh gods, he was so happy at the same time, so glad that Loki was his first, because it could never have been so perfect any other way._ _ _ _

____A tentative hand reached down to grasp his thigh, and Thor found himself being pulled up as Loki pressed himself down, and Loki was nodding permission, yes, he could move now, and surely, surely nothing had ever been so beautiful as the look on Loki’s face as Thor thrust up, meeting him._ _ _ _

____Loki’s head fell back as his hips started to roll evenly, and Thor surged gently upwards to meet him. It was gentle and tender, as though he were a calm sea and Loki a little boat gliding safely over the waves. Thor spread his hands out on Loki’s lithe thighs, awed at the feeling of the muscles working under the pale skin as he rode him._ _ _ _

____“Oh, Loki,” he murmured. “Loki.”_ _ _ _

____Loki lifted his head at that, picking up the pace of his undulating hips, lowering himself harder. He brought one hand to his head and ran it over his face, through his hair, lifting his hair off his neck, and it was so gorgeously wanton that Thor’s hard-kept control began to crack. Loki dropped down, hands on either side of Thor’s head, nuzzling and biting at his throat._ _ _ _

____“Go ahead, I want to feel how you want to do it,” he gasped into his ear._ _ _ _

____Thor’s head fell back to the pillow then as he grabbed Loki’s ass with both hands and began driving upwards, so hard, into that tight, tight passage that gripped him like steel and velvet, such a perfect fit, yes, and he thrust up into it and pulled Loki down onto him each time he plunged upward, deeper and deeper into Loki, his breath hitching as he grew close._ _ _ _

____“That’s right, Thor,” Loki panted. “Do you have any idea how huge you feel? You’re so hot inside me, and I’m so stretched, even with my fingers first, I thought it wasn’t going to fit-”_ _ _ _

____Thor bucked hard at the thought of Loki preparing himself, sliding those slender fingers, covered with oil, up into himself even as he hovered over Thor, kissing him. He could only imagine it, but oh, what an image._ _ _ _

____“Yesssss,” Loki hissed at him, writhing now, all semblance of a rhythm lost as he frantically drove himself down onto Thor, who took one hand from Loki’s ass to grasp his cock, savoring the stuttering moan that he let out as he began to work himself back and forth, down onto Thor’s cock and then up into Thor’s hand, and the desperation on his face and the fine sheen of sweat that covered his body, and the _noises_ he was making could not possibly be more erotic and then Thor gave a sharp jerk upward and he was spilling, pumping so deep inside Loki, so far inside, and then Loki’s own hips were spasming as he spilled himself across Thor’s chest._ _ _ _

____Loki collapsed down on him, face buried in his shoulder, and Thor twined his arms around the shaking torso._ _ _ _

____“I’m here, I’ve got you,” he whispered._ _ _ _

____Loki gave a faint sob as Thor’s softening cock slipped out of him. Thor felt his own spend trickling out of Loki and down his body, and it was strangely sweet. He rolled them onto their sides, still holding on to Loki, who continued shaking, and Thor found himself thinking this must have been Loki’s first time like this too. He squeezed him hard, wanting to hug him until his body calmed. _I love you,_ he thought. _I wish I could tell you._ He smoothed the hair back from Loki’s forehead and gave it a gentle kiss just as the final chime rang._ _ _ _


	14. Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Centuries spent learning mistrust and insecurity are not so easily overcome.

Loki woke up the next morning to find that he and Thor had slept pressed together, chest to chest. Or more precisely, spend-covered chest to spend-covered chest. And they had dried together. He shifted tentatively and winced as it felt like he was about to be peeled like a grape.

Thor woke from the tug and opened bleary eyes to give Loki a sleepy grin. “Morning,” he rumbled as he tousled Loki’s hair.

He tousled Loki’s hair. _He actually tousled Loki’s hair._ “We’re stuck together, Thor,” Loki spat out.

“Good,” Thor said. He threw a burly arm over Loki and snuggled back down with a happy sigh.

“No, not _good,_ Thor. It’s disgusting.”

Thor’s eyes opened again. “You didn’t seem to mind last night,” he teased.

Last night. As Loki’s sleep-hazed thoughts cleared up, the foggy memories took sharp focus. He’d let Thor enter him. That had most certainly not been in his plans. He hadn’t made Thor talk nearly as much as he’d planned to, and he hadn’t even opened his bag of toys, but he’d let Thor _enter_ him. Not just the finger that he’d idly thought might be fun as he used Thor’s mouth, but… everything. He had taken Thor in and begged him for more.

“Well, I do now. I can’t believe we fell asleep like… that.” Loki gritted his teeth and tore away, smirking grimly at Thor’s surprised yelp.

He stalked to the table, determinedly ignoring the ache in his backside - _delicious ache,_ a little voice in the back of his head added - and poured the rest of the water over himself, snatching up the robe he’d borrowed and using it to rub himself clean. Clean enough to dress, at least. Thor sat in the bed, dumbly watching him. Dumb, indeed. He couldn’t even _read_ before Loki taught him. _He never had the chance,_ said the voice. _He learned quickly once he had a teacher._

Thor looked at him, eyes slowly widening. “Shall I dress you?” he asked. Like a servant. Which was really what he was. A glorified servant in the service of a rival power. One who had tried to worm his way into Loki’s heart. _That’s it, isn’t it? It’s not really your body that you're scared of him penetrating._ He crushed the thought ruthlessly.

“Shall I dress you, _my lord_?” Loki bit back. “No, I’m quite capable.”

Loki pulled on his clothes and turned to leave. _Are you really going to leave him like this? He deserves better from you._ “Thank you for your service,” he said coolly, and then he was gone.

 

*****

Thor was torn from a cozy dream by the feeling of his chest being nearly torn away. He opened his eyes to see Loki peering at him, looking adorably annoyed. He was really growing fond of Loki’s morning crabbiness; with the way it seemed to come after Loki had been open with him, he took each instance as a sign that they were growing closer. Thor glanced down and saw what, exactly, had him so put out. When he realized that they had been glued together by their own pleasures, he smiled and ran affectionate fingers through Loki’s hair. “Morning,” he rumbled.

“We’re stuck together, Thor,” Loki spat out.

“Good,” Thor said. He liked this closeness, and he liked what made it, the thought of their spends blurred together just as their joys had been. He could stay like this forever, he thought, as he pulled Loki close to him.

“No, not _good,_ Thor. It’s disgusting.”

Thor reluctantly opened his eyes again. “You didn’t seem to mind last night,” he said softly.

“Well, I do now. I can’t believe we fell asleep like… that.” Loki ripped them apart.

Thor watched as Loki angrily scrubbed himself before tossing the robe to the puddle on the floor. The air was almost crackling with his fury, and Thor could not, for the life of him, understand. This was far beyond the usual annoyance that resulted from Loki making himself vulnerable. Had he been wrong this whole time?

“Shall I dress you?” he asked hesitantly.

“Shall I dress you, _my lord_?” Loki bit back. “No, I’m quite capable.”

Thor sat, stunned into silence as he watched Loki tug on his trousers, throw the shirt over his torso, only bothering with two buttons before he slid into his boots and walked to the door. Thor honestly thought he was going to leave without another word, but at the last moment, he turned to the bed.

“Thank you for your service,” he said coolly. It was worse than silence.

*****

Loki glared at his reflection. He was definitely not used to feeling guilty, and he _definitely_ didn’t like it. Prince or no, he wasn’t used to having enough influence over another person to be able to do anything guilt-inducing. How in the world do people deal with this, he wondered. He had deeply wronged Thor, and Thor couldn’t very well challenge him, not when they weren’t even in the same realm. Even if they were in the same town, he would be powerless to act against Loki, no matter that he would be the one in the right. Well, it would have to go away eventually. Loki just needed to keep himself busy and wait for it to fade.

He threw himself into busyness. His reports to Nal continued, though without any information from one particular temple, and he began recording troop movements for Thrym, as well. He covered himself in invisibility and threw rock-laden snowballs at his brothers. He melted the roof over the heads of courtiers too drunk to notice the water dripping on them. He spent himself in and on every courtesan in the palace.

Weeks, then months, passed, and each thing only reminded him of Thor. Watching other temples made him think how superior Orfjara was. Studying the Vanir troops reminded him of how Thor looked as he practiced with Mjölnir. Attacking his brothers made him remember reading with Thor, wrestling with him, the things he should have done with his own brothers. The courtiers covered in water just made him compare them, _most _unfavorably, to the way Thor looked covered in sweat as Loki brought him again and again. And much as he tried to focus on the courtesans, it was only ever Thor he thought of, Thor’s eyes watching him and Thor’s hands touching him and Thor’s body receiving him, and _Norns, _he had to do something about this.____


	15. Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things weren't all better, but they would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind feedback, dear readers! I hope you continue to enjoy my story!

Thor woke up thirsty. It was still dark out, and he didn’t want to get up, but after a few minutes of trying to ignore it, he grudgingly decided there was a better chance of more sleep if he got some water. Throwing on a robe, he stepped out into the silent hall and almost immediately tripped over something lying on the floor. He quickly adjusted to the dim light from the torches that burned at the far end of the hall, and he looked to see what had been so carelessly abandoned. _It_ was legs. _Loki’s_ legs.

His eyes glittered colorlessly as he whispered. “Hello, Thor. I thought I’d just wait here to be sure I didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Loki,” he said, cautious. “I didn’t think to see you-”

“I’m an ass,” Loki said quickly. “And a fool, and I’m here to apologize.”

Thor stared. Loki’s hair was tumbling in dark curls around his shoulders, and his face was stark. He looked empty. Emptied.

“Look, just tell me, can you forgive me? If not I’ll go now.”

“I… I’m not sure. I have to think… would you like to wait inside? I woke thirsty, and need to fetch some water.”

Loki bowed his head and stood. Thor watched him move. _Always so graceful,_  he thought. Thor got his water quickly, returning with a pitcher and two cups. His mind felt like it was moving as fast as the wind but getting nowhere. Loki calling himself an ass was no small thing. Yet Thor had thought that night had been full of _no small things_ , that it had meant as much to Loki as it did to him, but it didn’t stop Loki’s cruel tongue the next day. Part of him - a lot of him, really - wanted to simply bury himself in Loki’s arms and pretend nothing had ever happened, but he knew that he deserved better, deserved explanation and apology, and he resolved to be cautious.

Pushing open the door with his foot, he gasped.

*****

Loki had thought long and hard about how to apologize. Thor had a good heart - much better than his own, much better than he deserved, but exactly what he wanted - Loki was sure he would accept it with nothing more than Loki’s words. He wanted to give him something more, though. What to do, when Thor could not accept gifts? Some of the cakes he loved? That seemed too easy. Something Thor had talked about, something that would be meaningful for Loki to have remembered.

Then he had it. One evening, as Thor was lighting a lamp, he had said something about missing the candles from his childhood. They were made with the wax from a fruit that grew on his family’s farm, and… what was it? _They smell like happiness_ , he had said.

*****

As he opened the door, Loki was just straightening from lighting a candle. Lighting the last candle, rather, as the room was packed. The table was covered, the windowsill was loaded, the top of his chest wasn’t even visible. Their gentle fragrance, at once fresh and cozy, filled the room. He didn’t even remember telling Loki about his mother’s bayberry candles, but he must have done so, and while he forgot, Loki remembered.

Loki looked at him uncertainly. Before he could speak, though, Thor had him in his arms.

They didn’t even kiss, at first. Loki’s arms went hesitantly about his waist, tightening in response to Thor’s own squeezing grasp. They just held each other. Five, ten minutes passed. It was quiet, gentle. Thor might not be ready to forgive him, not just yet, but he needed this.

“I’m so sorry,” Loki whispered into the silence. “I’m a fool. I didn’t think ever see you again.”

“Nor did I,” Thor answered. “I thought I’d lost you, and I couldn’t think what I had done wrong, Loki. What happened? You owe me that. Everything had seemed so perfect when we fell asleep.”

“It was,” Loki said. “It was perfect, and that was… something I wasn’t ready for. I got overwhelmed, and I took it out on you. You did nothing wrong,” he said, pulling back slightly to smooth his hands over Thor’s face.

His cool fingers touched him so softly as they ran over his cheekbones, down his nose, carefully around the hollows of his eyes. Avoiding his lips, leaving that decision for Thor to make. Loki didn’t make the long and detailed apology Thor might have liked, but he had told Loki what it was that he needed to hear, and Loki had respected that, despite how hard it no doubt was for him to say such things. And Loki remembering the candles said much, very much indeed.

So he pressed his lips into Loki’s palm, and then they were kissing, oh, so gently, so lightly, and their hands were roaming almost lazily over waists and backs, cupping each other’s heads, twining their fingers in the hair spilling over their shoulders. Even as they undressed each other - not that Loki had much to do, just getting Thor out of his robe - their motions were languid and delicate. Thor was aware of Loki’s erection before his own, as he knelt to unlace Loki’s boots and tug them off before reaching for the laces on his breeches and easing them off as well. Then he was simply sitting on his heels at Loki’s feet, looking up at his face in the flickering candlelight, their eyes meeting. _Never do that again_ , Thor begged silently, and Loki’s eyes were so tender as they promised back, _I won’t_.

They stayed just as tender as Thor rose up to his knees and took Loki into his mouth, drawing him in until Thor’s lips were pressed up against the soft black hair at the base. As though he could take Loki into himself and hold him there and never let him go. Loki’s hands tangled in his hair, cradling Thor’s head against him. They were silent, listening to the soft sounds of Thor’s mouth as it slid back and forth on Loki’s cock, the growing intensity of their breaths.

Thor closed his eyes, taking in the sensations of Loki’s silken hardness beneath his lips, the light musky scent that somehow always reminded Thor of white grapes, the feel of Loki’s strong thighs under his hands as he pulled them closer. It was all the more precious for his having thought this lost forever.

He made a soft sound of protest when Loki pulled away from him, but then he was kneeling on the floor and kissing Thor, fingers still running through his hair.

“I was right about this floor not being so pleasant for the knees,” he whispered after a moment, urging Thor upwards. He moved them to the bed and gently tugged Thor down onto his side so that they lay facing each other, their hands caressing each other’s faces and sharing their breaths. Loki’s hand gave a last pass over Thor’s jaw before he began to lick and kiss his way down Thor’s chest, until he was at Thor’s cock, and was lavishing it in still-quiet affection, all soft lips and soft tongue.

“Can you prepare yourself while I do this?” he breathed. “I would like to focus my attention here just now.”

Thor stiffened at his words, sudden urgency making him want to oil his fingers and drive them all into himself at once, while shoving his erection deep into Loki’s throat, working back and forth between them, but he was determined to match Loki’s pace. It seemed to be part of his apology, as much as the candles were, and Thor would not ruin it. So he stretched himself carefully, lovingly, luxuriating in the sensations that swirled through his entire body, coiling up from Loki’s mouth and his own fingers.

“Loki, I’m ready,” he whispered. “How would you like me?”

Loki placed a long kiss on the head of his cock before raising his head. “Any way I can see your face,” he said.

Thor could have wept. A mere hour ago he thought he would never see Loki again, and now here he was, and everything was so delicate and no, things weren’t all better, but they would be in time. He rolled to his back and opened his legs to welcome Loki between them. This way was easy and undemanding for both of them, letting them focus on each other, rather than having to worry about balancing or staying upright.

It was gentle, and considerate, and tender, and while those might not have been the first words Thor would think of when describing the most perfect sex, somehow, at least for now, that was exactly what this was.

Loki slid into him so carefully, as though he hadn’t been filled once since _that night_ , as though he were not a hierodore but Loki’s alone. And oh, how Thor wanted that. To be purely Loki’s, to travel with him, to share his home, to bear his hammer for Loki when need be.

“It’s not enough,” Thor whispered.

“I know,” Loki whispered back. “But it’s all we’ve got. Now hush, darling, don’t be sad, I never want to see you sad again.”

Thor didn’t think he could manage a smile just then, so instead he pulled Loki’s mouth down to his. Loki’s tongue eased into his mouth, moving at a rhythm to match his carefully rolling hips.

“Mmmm,” Loki purred into his mouth, delicious, like spices and honey, and Thor found he could smile after all.

Loki kept the same even pace the whole time, increasing the intensity by going slowly deeper, pressing more incessantly, holding there longer and making Thor pant with want, wanting Loki deep, so far inside, before drawing back, leaving the tip pressed against his sweet spot for longer and longer each time, and then Thor was moaning his pleasure, yes, gods, yes, before he slid back to repeat it all over again, maddeningly slow as he kept pulling Thor with him between the two extremes, and each time they drew nearer the end. When he slipped a hand between their bodies to stroke Thor, his hand worked at that same speed, intoxicating now, like switchbacks on a mountain road, going no faster but with each pass approaching the peak more quickly.

Even Thor’s climax, when it came, was easy and gentle, but it was no less beautiful for being sweet rather than sharp, a warmth that radiated throughout his body, clouds at sunset rather than lightning bolts. His hips gave a final surge up to Loki’s as he shot his pleasure across both their bellies. He was glad that it was mild this time. It meant he could keep his eyes open and fixed on Loki the whole time. If they dampened slightly at seeing the same feelings pass over Loki’s face as he felt him stiffen and release inside him, that could always be blamed on a trick of the candlelight.

Loki lowered himself to rest on Thor’s chest, tucking his head over Thor’s shoulder. His softening cock slipped out as he fidgeted slightly to get comfortable. Thor brought his hands up to run them up and down his back a few times before letting them rest around Loki’s waist. They lay together, listening to each other’s breathing.

“Thor?” Loki asked suddenly.

“Mmmm?”

“Would you get me some water?”

“Oh, all right,” Thor grumbled, teasingly. After a moment, he added, “You’ve got to let me up.”

Loki huffed and pressed his head into Thor’s neck. “Can’t I just stay like this? It’s so nice.”

Thor gave an exaggerated sigh. “ _All right,_ ” he said, tightening his hold on Loki’s waist and swinging his legs to the edge of the bed. As he sat up, Loki wrapped his legs around Thor’s hips and put his arms over his shoulders. Thor stood carefully, Loki clinging to him, and poured a cup of water.

“Are you going to drink it like this, too?” he asked dryly.

“Don’t be silly, Thor. Bed,” he commanded.

Getting back into bed proved much more awkward than getting out of it, but Thor managed it, and Loki took a dainty sip before handing him the cup with an innocent face. Thor looked at him as he set it on the floor.

“What? ” Loki said.

“You know what you look like? The monkey picture in your bestiary. The baby monkey held onto its mother just like that,” he said.

“A monkey? Do you know how they groom each other?” Loki asked him. “They pick the bugs out of each other’s fur and eat them. Here, like this,” he said, leaning over Thor’s head and rummaging through it with swift fingers, making exaggerated smacking sounds with his lips.

“Well, as long as we’re being ridiculous,” Thor said, and, pressing his lips against Loki’s stomach, blew out as hard as he could, before tackling Loki onto his back, collapsing half way on top of him.

They lay there, happily staring at each other. A couple times Loki’s hand darted for Thor’s hair to grab at imaginary bugs, but Thor caught his wrist each time, covering the hand with kisses. Thor shifted forward and gently rubbed their noses together, smiling at the surge of affection that the simple gesture managed to rouse. Loki smiled back, gently at first, and then slowly sharpening.

“What?” Thor asked, suspicious.

“What what?” Loki asked, eyes wide.

Just as his hands were all over Thor’s ribs, fingers dancing up and down as Thor doubled over in laughter.

Once he had caught his breath, Thor asked Loki, “What was that for?”

“You called me a monkey!”

“I did not call you a monkey. If I happened to point out that you were acting like one, I wasn’t the one who made you do it in the first place,” he explained.

Loki grinned at him, and they fell back into silence. The quiet night was broken as bird songs began, and the sky began to tint lighter. They fell asleep blanketed in morning sunbeams.

*****  
Loki sprawled across his bed, trousers unlaced, one hand lazily stroking his cock. Making up had been very enjoyable indeed, after he’d gotten the actual apology out of the way, and his lips curled as he watched the memory replay itself on his ceiling like a puppet show. It was easier, now that he wasn’t in the middle of it, to notice what things Thor liked best, and Loki was firmly set on making that particular sound - _oh, and that one_   - come out of Thor again. His hand fell idle as he watched the two figures collapse together, grinning as he watched Thor playfully rub their noses together, laughing as he watched himself tickle Thor until he was curled double with laughter, and it was even better than the sex, somehow. A swirl of his finger brought it to repeat itself, the nose rubbing and the tickling, then the tickling again, and again, and he realized how much he liked listening to Thor’s laugh, the rich rumbling deep within his chest, occasionally punctuated with a snort that always made him blush and laugh even harder.

_Are you really still lying to yourself about this, liesmith?_

“Shut up, shut up,” Loki muttered as he quickly ran the memory back to the middle, the sight of himself driving into Thor and the sound of their skin moving together as Thor pressed back against him.

_Are you so dedicated to mischief that you’d play it on yourself even at the cost of your own happiness?_

Fuck. It went against every speck of sense, every bit of reason. But there it was. He was in love. Fuck.

 

Fuck.


	16. Seeking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gods falling in love with mortals does not result in happy endings. Everyone knows this.

He’d heard all the old tales, of course, from when the realms mixed more often, stories of gods falling in love with mortals, only to lose them to Death after a few short decades. They rarely lived even a century, and if Thor was ever called back to war, he’d be lucky to live half that. It drove the gods mad, watching it happen and being so helpless. Many of them eventually destroyed themselves, one way or another. Was that what Loki would have to do, if he wanted to be with Thor? Stay with him on Midgard, watch him die, and then try to guess where Death took him, so Loki could follow? Wait until Thor grew old and drop him armorless in the midst of a battle, then charge Vanaheim alone, that they might meet again in Valhalla?

Perhaps it was better to simply forget. Smash his viewing globe, forget blue eyes and radiant smile and strong arms and so much heart.

No. Even as he thought it, he knew it was impossible, and he knew also that however painful the end might be, he would forever regret not taking every moment that he could. He had already wasted too much time. _Months_. He’d wasted months. How could he have been so foolish? Much as he hated to admit it, this situation was well outside the scope of even his abilities and machinations. He sighed, searching through his thoughts for any possible solution. He finally sent a messenger with a letter to Asgard.

A short note returned quickly.

  _Loki,_   it read,

_I would be most pleased to welcome you to Fensalir. I will have a meal ordered for us at midday tomorrow._

_Frigga_

The paper was light yellow and smelled of violets, and it was delicate in his hand. There was little room for such luxuries in Jotunheim, and Loki tucked it carefully inside a book. He had met Frigga before, and knew she was gracious, but he had not expected nearly this level of hospitality, to invite him so quickly and to a meal, at that. Her company was highly in demand; he knew people who waited months before a request for her attention was met. Surely it must bode well.

He barely slept that night, thinking over and over about how to phrase his request. Then, almost before he knew it, it was time to dress in his fineries and walk through the shadows into her outer chambers. A servant was waiting to meet him, and ushered him quickly into her airy receiving room. The weather was on the cool side for Asgard, but she had dressed warmly and thrown open the windows for him.

“My lady,” he said, bowing, “you do me great honor.”

“Loki, my _dear_ ,” she replied, rising to enfold him in an embrace. It was very confusing; was she toying with him? They certainly were not on these terms when they last met.  “I’ve been watching you recently,” she continued, “and have been expecting you to call on me for some time. In fact, I had rather expected it sooner,” she concluded, archly.

He had just managed to mumble something about not wanting to be presumptuous when her stern face broke into laughter.

“Come, sit and eat,” she said. “You can skip all the backstory that has your cheeks blushing such a becoming purple,” she added, giving one a pinch. “Just tell me what you would ask of me.”

The food was quite good, and it seemed to suit her. There was some leafy stuff called salad that looked like giant lichens, but was tender and bitter and mildly sweet, and a great variety of fruits, and soft white cheeses with different types of bread. Loki managed to sample everything while he placed his petition before her.

“I come to you with a mad request, I fear, but what else is love? Perhaps they are one. I throw myself on your mercy, and beg for a home here on Asgard for Thor and me, and for Thor to be given the gifts of godhood and Iðunn’s apples.”

He couldn’t breathe. She would deny his request, of course she would. He had known it was hopeless, but he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t try.

So when she simply said, “That sounds reasonable,” he nearly fell out of his chair. He straightened quickly, fast enough to catch the merriment in her eyes before she calmed her face.

“Of course,” she continued - and  _of course_  there would be an of course - “it is not my place to make this determination, but I shall speak to Odin on your behalf. Are you free to remain here until this evening, and join us for dinner?”

Loki could barely collect his thoughts enough to answer her. While people waited months for an audience with her, people waited years for one with Odin. He nodded, lips moving silently.

They finished eating, and then Frigga left him in her garden while she went to speak with her husband.  She wasn’t gone long, returning with a bright smile but offering no information, and took his arm to stroll down the paths together.

“Tell me about Thor,” she said, patting his hand.

“I thought you’ve been watching us?”

“I have. I just want to hear you talk about him,” she answered. “I do love a happy romance. Or mostly happy,” she amended, glaring at him. He winced.

“Well, the first time I saw Thor, he was… in the temple.” He just managed to catch himself before he said _in the bath_ , but from the raised eyebrow that met his gaze, he suspected she knew more details than he had offered.

The afternoon passed quickly, Loki talking about Thor, Frigga saying little, but giving little nods and hums in response to his words. Then a page was approaching to tell them that dinner was being laid out in the small family room. Frigga thanked him and steered Loki back indoors.

Loki was more accustomed to dealing with Odin than he was with Frigga, but he quickly realized that that was king-Odin, while before him sat husband-Odin, who was a very different creature. This Odin was somewhat grumbly after sitting on the uncomfortable throne all day, and while he was polite enough, that was all. Near the end of the first course, Loki began hearing little thumps under the table. It was halfway through dessert that he realized it was the sound of Frigga kicking Odin in the leg every time his face began to sour.

He repeated his petition to Odin, who just grunted. Loki was beginning to wonder what he should do next, when another, louder,  _thump_  under the table made Odin start and turn to Loki.

“Hmm, yes, yes, all reasonable enough, of course, but under the circumstances, I must ask something of you in return.”

Loki bowed his head. “Anything within my power or purchase shall be yours,” he answered.

“Oh, nothing like that,” Odin said dismissively. “I just want you to end the war with Vanaheim.”

Loki’s eyes could have popped out of his head.

“End the war with Vanaheim,” he echoed. “That’s all.”

Odin smiled blandly at him.

*****

“End the war with Vanaheim, that’s all,” Loki muttered, tossing his clothes angrily about his room. “As if I haven’t been trying to do just that for ages.”

He threw himself on the bed with a scowl, searching for new approaches. He laid on his back, staring blankly at the gray ceiling as his mind churned rapidly.  If it weren’t for his chest moving shallowly with his breathing or the occasional cocked eyebrow, one might have thought him a statue that had been knocked down by one of his father’s drunken courtiers. He was there for hours. Finally, he smiled.

 

 


	17. The Treaty Falters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The peace treaty between Jarl Torkelin and King Rolf of Jutland is on uneasy ground, and Thor expects the summons any day to return to war. Will Loki return in time to see him off?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter today, but if I'd made it longer it would have just been filler, and who wants to read that?

The air of the town had changed, somehow, Thor noticed as he went to the bakehouse to fetch the temple’s bread for the day. It was early, and while he didn’t pass many people, everyone he saw gave him curious, quizzical glances as they nodded to him. At least they were being more polite after he had helped deal with the bandits. It felt like they all knew something but him, something _about him_ , though, and it was unsettling. Not to mention the fact that even after a year, he still hadn’t gotten used to fetching bread. He didn’t mind getting water, the large buckets were heavy and more suited to his strength, but there was just something about the bread that rankled. Most of his tasks at the temple fit well enough with his martial self-image, but it was difficult to feel like a proud warrior while running minor errands.

The bakehouse was steamy after the stark morning air, and Thor took a moment, as he always did, to adjust, before walking in, past the public ovens, to where Selby was just sliding a tray of loaves out of one of her own larger ovens. Sixteen more loaves sat on a slatted board to cool.

“May I take some of these?” he asked her as he pulled open his satchel.

“Please do,” she answered. “Those four-” she gestured to the ones furthest from Thor, “are the coolest, they’ll be best for cutting if you’re to be eating them soon.”

“I thank you,” he said, grabbing the loaves roughly, as though it was their fault he was here.

“So,” she said, dusting her floury hands on her apron, “how do you think it’s going to work out?”

He looked blank. “I’m sorry?”

Her eyes widened. “You haven’t heard? Everyone thought you’d be the first to know. There’s a rumor that the truce with King Rolf may collapse.”

“What? Where did you hear this?”

“Solveig - you know, who works at the inn,” Thor nodded, “she overheard two guests talking last night as she brought them beers. One of them had come from the court of Jutland and said that he was beginning to chafe over the restrictions. So we thought, if that word is already getting around, surely you’re to be called back to Jarl Torkelin’s service. Just in case.”

That certainly explained the looks he’d been getting that morning. “I’m sorry, I have heard nothing of this.”

“Well, I’m sure the summons will come soon enough,” she offered. Consoled. Perhaps he didn’t conceal his feelings over bread-fetching as well as he intended.

He thanked her and left his mark in the account ledger, adding to the temple’s debt.

If he passed more staring people on his walk back, he didn’t notice them, his mind a thousand miles away. Or, well, thirty. The Jarl would muster the troops at his castle near Garekvoe if it were really going to happen. One day’s walk and he would be a warrior again. All he needed now was the word. He left the bread on the work table in the kitchen and wandered back to his room to wait for the call to breakfast. And there in the air hung the faintest note of bayberry. Loki had had to take the half-burned candles when he left, but their scent had hung in the air for days. It was nearly gone now, though.

He could not deny how much he wanted the summons to battle, the way his body felt stifled here, no matter how worked it got. He was a warrior, and could not be complete without war. Yet _here_  was the only way he could be with Loki. He’d just gotten him back. Could he face losing him again? Could he pack up and leave for the muster, knowing that Loki would come back to find him gone? Knowing that he might die without ever seeing him again? There were two things in his life that were a melding of joy, want, and need - battle and Loki. And now he might be faced with the impossible task of having to choose between them.

He was pensive, walking to the meal room, his own quiet mood a stark contrast to the noisy excitement he found within. The volume was even more impressive considering he was only the fifth person to arrive.

“Thor!” shouted Freydis. “Did you hear? Herta left in the night! He room is completely emptied. Everyone thinks she left with that merchant you saved, he stayed in town for _ages_  after he recovered, and kept coming to see her.”

“Can you believe it?” interrupted Gunnhild. “You saw what he looked like, disgusting.”

“She said he was very kind, and thoughtful, and she grew fond of him,” said Jarnsaxa, just entering the room. “And he made her laugh so hard I could hear it through the wall. I never hear anything through our walls. Some of us,” she concluded, fixing a pointed stare on Gunnhild, “have the sense to recognize a good thing when it’s in front of us.”

Thor felt a stab of jealousy. Herta got to leave, so as to be with her merchant more often than just his visits to Orfjara. Thor had to hope to stay if he were ever to see Loki again.

 

Younger sons of younger sons might have to do as they are told, but no one can tell them what to feel.

*****

The rumors grew day by day.

 

King Rolf had burned his copy of the truce.

Jarl Torkelin was moving his household to Garekvoe now, even though he usually wintered there.

The king had ordered four hundred arrows and fifty swords.

Jarl Torkelin had been overheard talking about flaying Rolf alive.

 

Thor sat on the steps outside the temple, staring down the road towards the inn. _Come on, Loki,_  he begged. _Come soon_.


	18. The Last Tapestry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki puts his plan into action.

Loki sank down heavily on the bed, the noises from the inn’s public room below mostly muffled by the heavy door. This idea had seemed much more clever when he was safely on Jotunheim. Now that he was here, about to put it into execution, his mind began to war with itself. If he failed, he would never see Thor - or anything - ever again. Even if he succeeded, there was pain in his future, more pain than he could possibly imagine as he sat in this place of safety.

He had no luggage beyond a single bag, an old one that had long ago seen its best days. No matter what happened today, he would never come here again, would have no reason to return for his things. He took a few minutes to look out the window and feel the fresh air. If this was his last day of life, he wanted a moment of enjoyment. But a moment was all he could allow before he was opening the beaten satchel and pulling out broad spools of thread.

What to weave this time, he wondered. Not his usual scenes, surely, no hunting or battles this time. Something for Thor to see and maybe understand, just a little, of things Loki couldn’t say. Wouldn’t say, not before he had triumphed. He couldn’t burden Thor with such words while his own future was so uncertain. Knotwork, he decided. Two interlacing knots, one green and one blue. Thor would have to know what that meant, surely. Green and blue knots against a background of shimmering white.

A flick of his fingers conjured a double, which stood before him quietly awaiting instructions. Loki spoke quickly, determinedly.

“You know what you are to do, yes?”

The double nodded. Its face reflected his own sadness.

“This is it, then,” he said.

He had taken on so many forms in the course of his life. Birds were his favorite, harsh raptors that struck terror with his screams, sharp eyes that caught the tiniest motions far below. But even a slug, he quickly decided, would be better than being thread. His seiðr sent the blue and white threads flying as he entangled his own body among them, coiling and turning back and diving long stretches before rising back to the surface. Then his own pattern was done, and there was just the last edge of white, before the tapestry was complete.

It was strange enough to feel himself so long and twisted. When the double lifted him and folded him into an easily carried bundle, he felt a jolt of nausea that he managed to suppress,  fortunately, as he had no desire to discover what it felt like to vomit in this shape. He was intimately aware of every sensation, the feeling that rippled through him each time the double took a step. There was no sound, no smell, no sight. Touch was the only sense left to him now, and he held onto each sensation like it was a rope thrown to a drowning man. He felt as they went down the stairs of the inn, felt the thudding gait of his horse as they rode towards the temple where his fate would be decided. He fought a rising panic as the pace slowed from a gallop to a hasty walk. They’d entered Orfjara, drawn near the temple. If he had a mouth, he would have been laughing hysterically. Imagine if the Norns were to cut the thread of his life while he was a thread. It was too, too funny, so funny it couldn’t bear thinking.

He was set down on a hard surface and left alone. Hours upon hours, sitting and waiting. Then he felt hands upon him. They were large and strong, and he realized just as he was unfolded and shaken out,  _Thor_.  Thor held him up a moment before he felt himself thrown around a pair of broad shoulders, and he wanted to curl in tighter, embrace that strength and promise that everything would be all right. All too soon, he was lifted up, refolded, and set back down. _No_ , he wanted to yell, _come back, put me back on._   Full lips pressed against him, moving in speech that Loki couldn’t quite make out, and then Thor was gone.

There was nothing else until a pair of small, capable hands lifted him and carried him away. _This is it,_  he thought, as he felt himself settle limply down upon a rough stack of wood. Other things were set on top of him, forcing him into even more contorted positions. He wanted to sob, he wanted to scream, more than anything he wanted to change back, to get away from here. But he knew that there was only way one to get to Thor now, and it meant going through fire.

Then the flame was there, and it was everything he had ever feared, worse, surely there was no worse fate for a frost giant than to burn, he was on fire and completely helpless as it ate through him until he was ash, and even then it kept burning as the other, harder, offerings took longer to be consumed. Finally, there was cold water, blessedly, blessedly cold, and then, even better, nothing.

*****

He woke to find himself again at the bottom of a pile, but now he sat upon something cold and smooth rather than a pyre. _It worked_. Until this moment, he hadn’t been able to really let himself believe that it would. Slowly, so slowly, in case someone was guarding the pile of offerings, he unraveled himself, pulling threads together and overlapping them, thickening his body until finally he was a small green snake, bright eyes peering out from beneath a bushel of apples, forked tongue tasting the air.

When he was sure he was alone, he slithered rapidly to hide in the shadows of the far wall. Coiling up, he peered around, taking his bearings. Even as he did so, though, he realized there was no need. He felt the call, begging him to draw near, to offer release. The Casket of Ancient Winters was here, in the same hall where he now hid. Its lure was irresistible, and almost before he knew it, he was wrapped around the pedestal that held it.

Knowing tricks himself, he was suspicious of them from others, but the air did not taste of enchantments, though he had felt them running through the walls, cocooning the treasury - for surely, that was where he was now - insulating it from any threats. _Almost any threat_ , he thought, with a sharp flick of his tongue. As part of a rich tapestry, he had been accepted, welcomed as a boon to the Vanir coffers. He stood as he shifted back to his own form and took the Casket in his hands. It sang its joy to him, sang of the centuries that it had sat here, praying to feel jotun hands upon it once again. One hand supported its base as the other rested atop, ready to lift the lid and unleash the winter that cried for freedom. He tossed his head, quickly shaking his hair back, and walked for the door.

He felt the enchantments screaming as he breached them, and stood calmly as Oðr with a host of guards appeared suddenly before him. He fidgeted the hand that held the lid and grinned wildly.

“You know I’ll do it,” he hissed.

And with that, the war was over.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! Now that this is up, I can - without spoiling anything - finally say that this story is based, loosely, on the Iliad. I was afraid the Trojan Horse would be too obvious otherwise and that's no fun. :)


	19. Chapter 19

There were only three chairs around the bargaining table, only three people discussing the terms of surrender. Oðr sat in the one nearest the door, as though it let him feel the possibility of escape, false as it was. Odin sat in the middle, the negotiator, looking more than a little pleased with himself. Well, he had been the instigator for Loki’s admittedly insane plan, Loki supposed he had the right to look pleased. Loki himself sat in the chair for the Jotunheim representative, and grinned as he felt the glares of Laufey piercing the back of his neck for daring to usurp such a place, though under the circumstances, he could hardly argue against Loki’s right to be there. Freya stood behind Oðr, and if it was possible, she glared even more balefully at Loki. He looked her straight in the eye and chuckled. Yes, she was definitely even more angry than Laufey. How delicious.

They talked for hours, Odin alternately urging Loki to make concessions to Vanaheim and Oðr to surrender point after point in favor of the Jötnar. Then the territories were all divided, the terms of repayment agreed upon.

“One last thing,” Loki said. “It’s so minor, but I must insist upon it. I want the Orfjara hierodore, Thor, released from his vows of dedication that he made to Freya.”

Oðr looked sharply back at his wife, who looked ready to argue until she saw the glare directed at her. It was lost upon no one that it was from Orfjara that Loki had snuck his way into their most protected vaults.

“Agreed,” Oðr hissed, daring her to argue. She did not.

“Then it is settled. The realms of Jotunheim and Vanaheim are at peace, and both realms will hold to the terms of the peace treaty,” Odin said, hammering Gungnir on the floor three times as his seidr poured forth, wrapping around the hands of the rulers of the realms. Laufey looked less than thrilled to be bound by a treaty whose making he had no part of, but he held his tongue as everyone rose and made their way to the doors.

Loki slipped quickly to Freya’s side as she tried to rush away from him.

“I’ll need your presence to have him released from his bond, of course,” he purred into her ear as he cast his Midgardian glamor.

She looked him over a moment before snorting. “So _that_   was you all along? I should have watched you more closely.”

“Indeed, but, of course, it’s too late now. I’ll need you with me,” he repeated, holding his hand out to her. “My lady?”

She stared daggers at him but accepted it. He led her through the shadows to Midgard.

With no further need to disguise his identity, he took them right to Sif’s outer chambers. Her back was to them, and they stood a moment watching her before Freya rolled her eyes.

“I do expect  _somewhat_  better attention than this,” she snapped. Sif jumped and turned to them. She stared a moment before realization dawned on her face and she fell to her knees before Freya, ignoring Loki completely.

“I beg your forgiveness,” she said. “I had heard tales of you visiting your temples, but I never hoped to be so graced here. I was deeply involved in the accounting for the winter.”

“Well, you’ll have one less mouth to feed this year,” Freya replied stiffly.

Sif somehow managed to convey both utter worship and total confusion as she stared up at her goddess, and Loki couldn’t help being a bit impressed. However, he was also impatient.

“My lady,” he said to her, “Could you please have Thor summoned? If he’s free?” As if he wouldn’t be  _made_  free when Freya herself had appeared and condoned the summons.

Sif looked at him as though she hadn’t even noticed anyone else in the room. She probably hadn’t, he thought, the way she had her eyes fixed so firmly on Freya. Her usual sharpness returned at his words, though, and she nodded and went to the door, speaking quickly to the servant who waited outside.

“Shall I remain, or would you speak with him alone?”

Loki turned to Freya. “It’s your temple,” he mocked.

She clenched her jaw. “Alone.”

Sif bowed again and slipped quietly out.

They waited in silence, Freya impatiently picking things up, inspecting, and discarding them. Thor was most likely hurriedly washing and dressing in his nicest clothes. Loki hoped it would be something red.

A hesitant knock finally rang from the door. Freya waved a hand and it swung open to reveal a rather worried-looking Thor, who was indeed wearing red, sinking to his knees, head bowed. Loki let Freya savor the sight for a moment, gracious in the knowledge that soon Thor would never kneel to any god but the Allfather ever again. (And Loki, of course, but that would be purely for fun.) Loki could only be generous for so long, however, and he jostled her arm.

“Rise, Thor,” she commanded.

He got to his feet but kept his head bowed until Loki breathed his name. He looked up then, happiness warring with perplexity at the sight of Loki standing with the goddess.

“There are some things I need to explain to you, Thor,” he said as he walked over and took him by the hand.

“Why don’t you start with what you really look like?” Freya growled.

“I’ll get to that,” he growled back, but Thor was now looking at him quizzically. He sighed.

“Thor… here, sit down.” Loki pulled out a chair.

“I thank you, but I can’t sit, not when…” he trailed off helplessly, gesturing to Freya.

“Sit down, Freya,” Loki snapped. Thor’s eyes widened as she huffed and threw herself into Sif’s chair. Loki almost laughed at his open astonishment at seeing her do something that  _Loki_   told her to do.

“Please, sit, Thor.” Thor nodded and sank down.

Loki paced a moment, unsure how to begin, before he plunged in, his throat tight with anxiety. “Remember when you asked me what my parents were thinking, naming me after the trickster?”

Thor nodded, the confusion on his face somehow managing to grow even further.

“They… well, they just liked the sound of it. You see, I’m…” he swallowed. “I’m the first of that name.”

It was lucky he’d put Thor in a chair with arms, because he’d certainly have fallen out otherwise. “You’re…”

He nodded. “I am. And this,” he took a deep breath, trying in vain to steady his nerves, “is my true face.” He looked away as he let his glamor fall. He had gladly faced the fire for Thor, yet he was too afraid too see disappointment cross that beloved face. He intently read the spines on Sif’s books until he heard fabric rustling. He turned back just in time to see Thor kneel again, and his heart swelled.

“No,” he said, grabbing at Thor’s shoulders as he bent to kiss Loki’s boot. “Never that. Well, not unless-” he leaned down to whisper in Thor’s ear, “not unless the boots are all I’m wearing.” Loki grinned as Thor blushed hard enough to match his cloak.

“I don’t, uh…” Thor trailed off.

“You don’t know what’s going on?” Loki asked helpfully. “No, I can see how it would be somewhat confusing. You see, Freya is here to release you from your bond, and I’m here to make sure she got the right person. She’s not always the easiest person to track down,” he added.

“Release me?” Thor repeated.

“Yes, to release you, try to keep up with things,” Loki chided him playfully.

“But how… I mean, aren’t you at war? “ he asked them. Freya just snorted and rolled her eyes again. Lifelong enemy or not, Loki was starting to like her.

“The war ended… let’s see, eight hours ago now? And we just finished the final negotiations. They included your release, if you wish it,” he explained.

Thor stared at him. “You want me? I mean, I know… I know you care for me, but my life is so short compared to yours. Won’t your caring just give you pain when I go? Wouldn’t it be better for you to forget me now?” His eyes welled with tears, but he spoke nobly as he repeated Loki’s own earlier thoughts. Loki hated himself for testing Thor, but going unloved for centuries made it difficult to trust, even now, and so he said nothing about the agreement with Odin. Not until Thor agreed out of nothing but love for Loki.

“Isn’t it worth it?” Loki asked him softly, gently pulling Thor’s head to rest against his leg.

“It is to me, but I would not see you hurt for anything,” Thor whispered.

“Just say yes.”  _Please, please_ , Loki silently begged.

Thor looked up at him. “Yes.”

Loki twisted to look at Freya with an arched eyebrow. She huffed.

“Fine, fine. Thor, of the temple Orfjara and warrior of Jarl Torkelin, I hereby release you from all vows and bonds that hold you to me.”

Loki tugged on Thor’s arm, urging him upward. “Stand, Thor. Stand, and be mine.”

Thor stood on shaking legs, staring into Loki’s eyes. After a moment, he smiled. “How can they look so different and yet be so perfectly you?”

Loki glowed, deep in his chest, and leaned in, pressing their lips together. They kissed chastely for a few breaths before Thor growled into him and deepened it. Golden hands slid into black hair, and blue ones into gold, as they held on to each other as though drowning. The sound of a chair scraping across the floor made them jump in surprise.

Thor turned to Freya. “My apologies, my lady-”

Freya’s waved hand cut him off. “Oh, please. Like I don’t know perfectly well what you two get up to together?” A quick grin flashed across her face as Thor reddened. Yes, Loki could definitely see potential in this one. “If you don’t mind, Loki?” she gestured at the shadows.

“Of course.” A tilt of his head and a shadow deepened. “The barriers to Vanaheim are still up, but this will take you to the general of your troops at Kaldakjinn.”

She nodded, rolling her eyes at Thor’s embarrassed shuffling, and was gone.  

“Loki,” Thor breathed, and it sounded like prayer. “You really managed to end a centuries-long war to free me for you?”

“Millennia-long, but yes. And no. I did it to free you  _for_ you. If you wanted release from your vow I wanted you to have it, whether you choose me or not.” Sentiment. He was halfway tempted to mock himself for such a speech.

“I want you. I want you more than anything. Oh, Loki,” Thor gasped as he pulled Loki back to him, covering his face with kisses as his eyes welled.

“None of that,” Loki grumbled. He saw Thor’s smirk at his tone, but decided to let it go. Today was a special day. Laughter bubbled up inside him as his joy overflowed and spilled out of him. Thor began to laugh too, and soon they were both laughing and fumbling with each other’s shirt buttons.

“Here, or your chambers?” Loki asked him. Thor looked around a moment, eyes seizing on the large mirror that stood in one corner.

“Well, my chambers would be more comfortable, but…”

“Mmmm?” Loki prompted.

Thor swallowed hard and looked him the eyes. “Your blue skin is so beautiful, I would rather like to watch as it slides into me.”

Loki’s cock was instantly hard, and he couldn’t have said whether it was the complete acceptance he saw in Thor’s eyes, or the determination it obviously took for Thor to say such words, or perhaps it was both. Either way, he had to have him,  _now_ .

“Go get your oil bowl,” he ordered as he swept an arm across Sif’s desk, clearing all her carefully arranged work into a heap on the floor. Well, she would soon know who he was, if she hadn’t figured it out already, and what else did anyone really expect from him?

Thor was halfway out the door before the papers hit the floor, and Loki laughed again as he listened to the heavy thuds of Thor running down the hall. He dragged the mirror over to stand next to the desk, its center even with one edge, moving around to make sure it would reflect the way he wanted it.

Thor returned quickly, pressing his body hard into Loki’s back, making sure the god knew how much he wanted all this, his mouth sucking on the nape of Loki’s neck. Loki looked over at their reflection, at the red lips hot against his blue skin, and groaned.

“Thor, look,” he managed to choke out. He watched as Thor’s eyes met his own in the mirror, watched them widen and the color deepen with lust.

“Oh, gods, Loki,” he moaned into his neck.

“You know… Thor…” Loki gasped as Thor’s teeth sank into him. “That is rather redundant.”

Thor nearly fell away from him then, laughing and shaking his head. “Go on, then,” he coaxed. “Show me how it is to be taken by a god.”


	20. Scars, Prizes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You’ve told me so much about your life before we met, and I have been able to tell you only veiled versions of myself. Though the things I told you, they carried as much truth as I dared."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a disclaimer for all the nitpicky readers like me, who have no problem accepting things like intergalactic sex gods who can shapeshift and pull cake out of thin air, but get stuck on little details- on this version of Midgard, the continents separated differently than on ours, and animals we think of as North American are well-known where Thor lives.

Loki turned to face him, a sharp, knowing grin on his lips and the most delicious spark in his eyes. He flicked a hand and their clothes were gone, and Thor could definitely get used to that, much as he did sometimes enjoy the slow tease of undressing. Right now, he just wanted Loki. Beautiful, kind, crabby Loki, who had done the unthinkable, the unbelievable, to win him his freedom.

“May I try something?” Loki asked. “If you don’t like it, just say so.”

“Sandstorm?” Thor asked, his nerves picking up slightly.

“I don’t think that will quite be called for,” Loki said. “But that’s fine if you want.”

Thor smiled. “All right, then,” he said. “I’m game.”

“Delicious game,” Loki said as he pulled Thor to him, grinding their erections together. Then Thor was lost as Loki nibbled him all over, making “mmmm” sounds like he was having Thor for lunch, roaming all over his face and ears and neck. He wasn’t really sure what there might possibly be for him to dislike about this, when he suddenly felt a cool body behind him, and he turned with a jolt, to see Loki also standing behind him.

“Shh, it’s just a double, darling. Haven’t you ever wished you had more hands?”

Thor was both nervous and intrigued. Loki took his head and turned it to the mirror, then, to see his body sandwiched between two gorgeous blue figures, both of them running their hands all over him, touching him all at once in so many of the places he loved, and he was most definitely _not_ going to ask Loki to stop.

Loki sat down on the desk and gathered Thor between his legs, his mouth even with Thor’s chest now and he took full advantage, nuzzling and licking his nipples while holding tight to his ass, pulling it open for the double, which was sliding gentle fingers into him, twisting and searching. It brought its free hand to Thor’s cock and began to stroke it with featherlight touches, just enough to tease him into begging.

Thor writhed helplessly as he panted, “Please, please, Loki…”

Loki moved him back slightly to slide off the desk. “Over,” he ordered.

Thor stepped forward and bent over the desk, smiling to see that a small cushion for his stomach had appeared at the edge. Loki moved behind him as the double faded back into nothingness.  “We’ll do this again, and I’ll have it suck you as I take you,” he whispered into Thor’s ear, “but today, I want this to be all me.”

Glorious as that did sound, Thor agreed that it would be better another day. Right now he wanted nothing but Loki, the real Loki.

And suddenly he had him. The double had done its work well, and Loki’s entry was smooth and easy. He drove forward into Thor, over and over, his speed slowly picking up, Thor shoving back to meet him.

“Look in the mirror, Thor,” Loki told him. “That’s why we’re here.”

Thor was half lost to pleasure and it was a struggle to raise his head from the desk, let alone turn it, but then he was looking at their reflections, the lean blue body draped over his, those gorgeous swirl-covered hips moving liquidly, and it was so, so much, but he wanted more, and he let out a sob of need and want.

“Mmm?” Loki purred into his back.

“I wanted more… I wanted to see…”

“Where we meet?”

Thor nodded frantically.

“Yes, it is rather hidden at the moment, isn’t it?” Thor had no idea how Loki could actually form complete sentences, but a moment later he was very glad of it, as Loki continued.

“Sometime I’ll make doubles of both of us, and we can watch them together, if you’d like.”

Thor liked. He liked very much, and just the thought was bringing him close to his finish.

Loki continued, his voice getting heavier and thicker with passion as he spoke. “In the meantime, I’ll just have to tell you how it looks, hmmm? Your ring is getting red and swollen as I thrust into you, and I can see how tight it is, see the tension where it grips me, and my blue cock keeps disappearing inside, like you’re swallowing me alive, and I bet you’re just as red inside, a deep red tunnel that I just keep filling deeper and deeper, and your ass is glowing gold against my hands as I hold you open, my blue fingers biting into your skin, and when I slide out your ring grabs onto me like it doesn’t want to let go-”

Loki was panting now, barely able to continue, and he reached one hand around to work Thor’s cock as he moaned, “and it is so good and so tight and so perfect, and it’s so…yes, Thor, oh, yes… I can _see_ it fluttering... Thor… _Thor_...”

Thor felt a cool wetness flood into him as his own pleasure spilled out over Loki’s hand. This _particular_ coolness was new, but not unpleasant. One more way of learning the real Loki, and he was so eager for that.

“Gods, Loki,” he just managed to stammer out, “I think that might have been even better than seeing for myself.”

Then Thor collapsed, his torso draped over the desk, letting it bear the weight his legs would no longer hold. Loki was still behind him, though he had slipped gently out. He was rubbing Thor’s back and making soothing sounds that sounded so foreign, he couldn’t even tell if they were speech or nonsense. He made an unhappy little groan as something cold began to run down his leg, and he forced himself to stand, looking around for a cloth he might use. The desk could do with some cleaning, too, he noticed. He crinkled his nose as he saw that there was nothing there beyond their clothes, arranged neatly on Sif’s chair. He reached forward to grab his kilt - at least he had more in his room, so he wouldn’t have to wear it long - but Loki stopped him.

“I’ve got it,” he said. He gave an odd little tilt to his head, and Thor’s leg was warm again, the desk cleared of the more direct evidence of what had happened on it.

“Shall we go to your chamber? I would rather like to lie down, and this room isn’t particularly suited,” he yawned.

“Yes, of course,” Thor said, reaching again for his kilt.

“Don’t bother, no one will see,” Loki stopped him.

Thor looked a little nervous, but when Loki gestured him out the door, he followed. At least, if they were seen, no one would take much notice of him, not when he was standing next to a willowy blue god. He didn’t even know, really, why he felt shy about this. He was naked with the other hierodores often enough, sharing baths or having their regular healer checks. Still, it was different somehow, more private, to be naked with his lover. When they passed Gunnhild in the hallway, pressing back into the wall to avoid bumping into her, Thor realized that Loki really had hidden them completely. She was certainly not one to stop her eyes straying when there was something worth the looking.

They collapsed together into Thor’s bed, Loki helplessly letting out one yawn after another. It was making Thor yawn, too, and he wasn’t even tired. No, he just desperately wanted details, but kept quiet and held Loki as he drifted off to sleep. He took the chance to investigate the beautiful patterns that whorled all over the slender body before him. They were slightly darker than the rest of his skin, and raised slightly. Each line had a symmetrical match, and they undulated down his torso in a design that subtly enhanced his lovely figure. Thor wondered if all the Jötnar had the same markings, or whether Loki was especially beautiful. Were they born with them? Thor had heard of warriors in far-off lands who put permanent marks in their skin to honor their victories, but Loki had said he was no warrior.

Loki slept until the sun was nearly set. Thor heard his breathing change slightly and looked up at Loki’s face, which was now peering back curiously. Thor supposed it was a little odd, to have his face in this particular position, when he wasn’t doing anything beyond looking. Loki quirked an eyebrow.

“I was just looking at your markings… they’re lovely,” he said. “Do all the Jötnar have the same ones, or are yours particularly special?”

Loki’s face clouded in anger, and Thor, taken aback, sat up and away. Loki might have done incredible things for him, but an angry god was an angry god, and Thor wasn’t stupid. But Loki just patted his arm and sighed.

“I’m not angry at you, Thor. It’s natural to be curious.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Thor said. “They’re so beautiful, I didn’t think there was harm in asking.”

Loki sighed again. “Beautiful,” he said bitterly. “Yes, they are.”

“It’s all right if you don’t wish to speak of it,” Thor offered.

“No, I’ll tell you. You’ve told me so much about your life before we met, and I have been able to tell you only veiled versions of myself. Though the things I told you, they carried as much truth as I dared,” Loki said, looking at Thor like it was terribly important Thor believe him, believe that the liesmith had not wanted to tell him lies.

Thor nodded. “I understand.”

Loki took a moment before speaking. “So, you know that I am small for a jotun, yes? A useless runt,” he spat out.

Thor grinned at him. “I know the first part, but would dare anyone to claim the second, now.”

Thor felt the tension easing in Loki’s body, and was glad he’d found the right response. Loki so hated discussing anything personal, and Thor felt sad again as he thought of what cruelties had brought about such a closed nature. It seemed kindnesses would slowly help him open, but they had to be done so, so carefully.

“These scars are given to each male jotun when they come of age, applied by the nearest male relative. So, Laufey did Helblindi’s, Helblindi did Byleistr’s, and Byleistr did mine.”

Thor nodded, encouraging. He hated the monotone flatness in Loki’s voice, but perhaps that was the only way he could speak of it.

“We have a special knife for cutting the scars. The edge of the blade is sharp, but the sides of it are rough, so they grab the skin and tug on it as it drags through. It makes the skin pull upward, and helps make sure the scars are raised when they heal. Despite being raised, though, since they’re darker, they often look like shadows. The scars are used to outline the muscles, to emphasize the depth of the spaces between them and make them look bigger. It is a truly impressive transformation, to see a boy the day before he receives his scars, and to see him again when they have healed. It makes him look as though he has spent weeks doing nothing but heaving blocks of ice, rather than standing as still as possible, waiting for the scars to heal perfectly.”

Thor nodded to show that he followed Loki, despite not understanding at all. Loki’s scars were nothing like that, they swirled elegantly in long strokes across his body.

“The quality of the scars is something that we look for in a mate, how well shaped they are and how evenly they healed. Over time, it’s become… erotic, I guess, the same way we prefer appealing faces and attractive forms. One more thing for us to consider when choosing who to take to bed, how well they outline the ideal figure. ”

Thor looked again at Loki’s body, the long whirls that billowed out, the delicate curls, so tight over his hips they looked like filigree. _Oh_.

“So, your own brother…”

“Yes.” It was cold and bitter. “Byleistr decided it would be amusing to give the weakling runt scars that detracted from my strength, ones that emphasized how very much I was not the broad, stocky jotun prince that everyone wanted me to be.”

Thor hugged Loki to him tightly and pressed a kiss into his shoulder.

Loki shoved at him. “I  _don’t_  want your pity.”

“It’s not pity, Loki, it’s sadness. They may look the same, but that is all. May I not seek comfort when I am sad?” He pulled Loki to him again, and this time, Loki let him. He held them close for a moment before an idea took him. It was a painfully overused metaphor on Midgard, but Thor gambled that it would be new to a jotun. And even if Loki did recognize the cliche, it would still be true.

“Will you come with me to the window?”

Loki cocked an eyebrow but joined him.

The window was high, to give privacy to the events that occurred within, and Thor had to drag the table under it for them to climb up and see out. The sill was wide, and they sat in it together, leaning back against the walls to face each other.

“There was a terrible storm, not long after I arrived here,” Thor began. “The wind was so strong, it tore the shutters off many buildings and left havoc inside as well as out. I spent the night standing on the table, holding mine in place so they wouldn’t be broken. In the morning, when the storm finally broke, I looked out again.”

He looked out.

“Where there had been two trees, just there, only one stood. That stump you see, that was a massive oak. It could have twelve children playing in it and barely even a leaf would quiver, that is how very strong it was. And that birch, standing near it, could not hold a single climber. For the purposes of children, it was weak and useless. But then the storm came, and you see which tree survived. Now tell me which was the strong one.”

Loki blinked at him. “I’m not a tree, Thor. I’m a jotun. A runt jotun. You would have been a better one than I, even though you are as short.”

All right, then. A new approach. Thor hopped down to fetch Loki’s bestiary.

“You want to compare us, then?” he asked. “Very well.” He flipped quickly to the page with bears. “I am much like the bear. I am large, and strong, and burly.” He turned to the wildcats. “You are much like this mountain lion.”

Loki tilted his head thoughtfully. Yes, this was much better.

“It is slender, and looks small and weak next to the bear. But it has such power coiled within its body, just waiting for the moment to use it. It can move completely silently, even in the midst of running or fighting. It is much smarter than the bear, and will plan its best attack while the bear merely charges forward.”

Was that a hint of a smile? It was. Good.

“I knew a hunter once, who saw a fight between a bear and a cougar. He was standing on a cliff, searching the plain for game, when he saw them both stalking the same elk. Once they realized that they were hunting the same prey, they abandoned the elk and turned their anger on each other. The hunter thought surely the bear would snap the cat’s neck, and that would be the end of it. Yet once they began to fight, he saw how wrong he had been. The cat circled the bear, watching for the best opening, while the bear swung furiously with its short legs. It had gotten a few small scrapes on the cougar when it leapt forward and tore out the bear’s belly. It collapsed on the rocks, its organs spilling out, and the cat pounced onto its back and broke its neck with its jaws. Then the cat carefully cleaned its own fur before dragging the dead bear off to eat.”

Loki was definitely looking happier now. Thor had to swallow to keep his heart from filling his throat.

“Tell me, if you were to paint jotun marks onto this cat, what would they look like?”

Loki glanced down at his body and looked at Thor. “Point made.”

Thor did his very best imitation of Loki’s smirk. It earned him Loki’s very best imitation of Thor’s punch.

*****

“Tell me what you did to win the war?” Thor asked as they lay stretched out in the bath.

Loki shuddered slightly, sinking further into the cool water. “It’s not pleasant,” he warned.

“Wars aren’t.”

“No. Well, then. I was dedicating most of my time to finding ways to blockade Vanir supplies most effectively, but I also was working on ways to get into the treasury in Vanaheim. I figured if we could just get the Casket back, the Vanir would be forced to surrender. I’d been working on it for a couple centuries, when an idea struck. The treasury had been warded against every living thing except Odr and Freya, and their inner council. I had tried every way I could think of to trick my way past these wards, but could find none. And then I realized that I simply had to be dead to get in.”

Thor tensed.

“I did say it wasn’t pleasant,” Loki said, but Thor simply waited for him to continue.

“You know that offerings made here are burned. What you don’t know - or Sif didn’t, so I assume you don’t - is that the smoke rises to Vanaheim and… condenses, I guess, back into its original form.”

Thor frowned a moment, and then gasped.

“You…”

Loki nodded. “When I visited you yesterday, it wasn’t really me,” he said softly. “I cast a double of myself to visit you. I was woven into the offering that it brought with it.”

“That explains it, then. I thought you seemed strange, the whole time you were here.”

“It’s hard to get the personality done well in a double, it’s a trick I don’t often need. And undoubtedly, it had captured some of my sadness.”

Thor cocked his head.

“I knew I was about to be burned alive, and I wasn’t entirely sure that I would be remade on the other end, or if I would be no more than a strand of thread if I were. What might have been my very last time coming to see you, and it wasn’t even me. And yet I was so close.”

“You were in that weaving... it was the most beautiful one you ever brought, Loki, and so different from your usual offerings. The colors of the two knots…”

“I was glad when I felt you picking me up and wrapping me around yourself. I had hoped you would at least see - it, me - before the sacrifice was made. If I died, and you never saw me again, I wanted you to have the memory of that design to hold onto.”

Thor’s eyelashes were sparkling with tears. He brushed them away impatiently, shifting to his side and resting his forehead against Loki’s. A nagging doubt in the back of Thor’s mind slowly forced itself to the front, despite his best efforts to force it away.

“Did you only start coming here to sneak into the treasury?” he finally asked. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer, but he couldn’t start a life with Loki without knowing.

Loki began to laugh but quickly caught himself, resting a reassuring hand on Thor’s elbow.

“Nothing so devious, I’m afraid,” he admitted. “It was so lacking in trickery that I’m a little ashamed of myself.”

He quickly explained how he monitored the offerings in Freya’s temple to better direct Jötnar agents in their blockade efforts, Thor nodding along.

“And then one night, I happened to look at this particular temple, simply because I hadn’t in a while,” he said. “And then I saw you. And I wanted you. And that was _supposed_  to be that.”

“But…”

“Well, I think it’s obvious.”

“Tell me,” Thor teased.

“I just got addicted to your ass. Don’t get too smug,” Loki said airily.

“Mmmm.” It seemed the most noncommittal answer Thor could give, which seemed best. Then another question posed itself in his mind.

“When did you have the idea of being dead to get into the treasury?”

“It had occurred to me a few decades ago, but I wasn’t really sure how to accomplish it until I started coming here.”

Thor propped himself up on one elbow. “Why did you wait so long to do it, then?”

“Why did I put off burning myself alive, when I didn’t know if I’d come back, you mean?”

“Well, when you put it that way… why do it at all, then?”

“I wanted you, more than I could have on my visits here,” he said simply. “I went to the All-Father and begged him to let the two of us live on Asgard together. He agreed, on the condition that I end the war. So I did. And when I had done it, one of the prizes I demanded of Vanaheim was that you be released from your vows.”

“We’re going to live on Asgard?” Thor just managed to stutter.

“Well, yes,” Loki answered. “Jotunheim is much too cold for you, I’d never get to see you naked ever again. And you’d hate the food.”

“Asgard,” Thor said contemplatively as he sank deeper into the bath. Then, “Prizes? What else did you get?” Any warrior worth his salt loved to hear about the spoils of war.

“The things I took for myself were fairly simple, though I demanded much for Jotunheim, as was right. I took from Vanaheim your freedom. I was granted by Odin a home for us in Glaðsheim. I will take from Jotunheim enough funds to establish that home.”

Thor was stunned. He had said he wanted to be with Loki, and he did, but he still hadn’t fully grasped what that meant.

“Glaðsheim?” he breathed. “We’re not just going to live on Asgard, we’ll live  in Odin’s palace.”

“Yes,” Loki said. “Just a side wing, of course.”

“We’re going to live in the hall of the gods.”

“Oh, that was the other thing I was granted by Odin. You’re to be made a god, as well.” Loki said it offhandedly.  

Thor blinked at him.

“You dying before we have even a century was not among my plans.”

“So, you want me, for… how long?”

“Longer if you don’t ask annoying questions,” Loki answered, beginning to grow testy. Thor decided to back off for now. There had been a lot of heavy conversation, and he didn’t want to pressure Loki for too much at once. And now, it seemed, he would have more time than he’d ever dreamed. So instead of asking more questions, Thor splashed him. Loki looked at him, indignant, and sent a surge of water back. Thor’s retaliation sent a wave over Loki’s head.

“Oh, that’s it, mortal, prepare to learn a lesson in respect. You’re not a god yet,” Loki said.

Thor dunked him.

*****

Just as they were falling asleep, Loki whispered to him.  “Thor?”

“Mmm?”

“I don’t think bears are so unintelligent as you said.”


	21. Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor takes his leave of Midgard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

The next morning, Thor went to the breakfast hall to say his goodbyes. The hush that fell over the room the moment he appeared in the doorway told what the subject of conversation had been. He couldn’t really have expected anything different, of course. He smiled awkwardly.

He took the nearest empty seat and filled his bowl with the spiced and honeyed oatmeal he loved. The oatmeal was just a carrier, as far as he was concerned, and whoever had cooked this morning had obviously taken his tastes into account; spices were a rare treat. “Well, go ahead,” he said.

The questions came thickly, then, and he ended up talking with his mouth full, or he’d have had nothing to eat. Perhaps oatmeal wasn’t the best choice. Did they have spices and honey on Asgard? Surely they must.

“So Lord Sølvgren is Loki,” said Freydis. “Does he really have blue skin and red eyes?”

“He does.”

“Isn’t it terrifying? Everyone says the Jötnar look like monsters.”

“Maybe other Jötnar, I don’t know. Loki is beautiful.”

“You’ve been sleeping with the enemy,” spat Gunnhild. “You claim to be honorable.”

“No, I claim only that I try my best. And by the time I knew who he was, he was no longer the enemy, he was the agent of peace. If he ever even was an enemy,” Thor added. “All his work was dedicated to ending the war. Peace is of benefit to the Vanir gods, as well.”

Thor’s mind stilled at his own words. Yesterday morning it would have been _our_ Vanir gods. By last night, it no longer was. He could never have any god besides Loki, now, not even the All-Father whom all worshipped.

“Where is he taking you?”

Thor thought about last night and blushed, which set everyone off into peals of laughter.

“To live! Where is he taking you to live?”

Thor joined the laughter for a moment. It was their last chance to tease him, and he wouldn’t deny them the kindly meant fun.

“We’re to have a wing in Glaðsheim,” he said shyly.

They stared as one.

“What?”

Thor nodded. “It was part of the peace agreement.”

Herta let out a low whistle. “And I thought we had it made, being here,” she said.

Sif stood, bringing an end to the conversation before it went too far down that road. “I’m sure everyone will joining me in wishing you all our very best. If you ever have chance to visit, you will be most welcome, and if you do not, know that you have our good thoughts with you.”

Thor rose and bowed. “As have you, my lady, and everyone.”

Then they were hugging him, and patting him on the back, and it was over and he was back in his room.

Loki sat with his feet up on the table.

“The minute you reveal yourself, you lose all your manners,” Thor chided him.

“Just think of it as droit de seigneur, if it helps,” Loki said.

“It doesn’t.”

Despite his scolding tone, Thor liked Loki in this playful mood; it had been too long since he’d seen it. Loki sat, watching as Thor moved around the room, efficiently packing up his belongings into his two small trunks. The room was quickly bare, as empty as a vacant inn, and just as impersonal.

“You look happy today, Loki.”

“I do love watching other people work. I always have.”

“I believe you,” Thor chuckled, before speaking more hesitantly. “Loki?”

“Mmm? Yes, darling?”

“Could we… I’d like to introduce you to Baldr and his family, before we leave Midgard, if I may?” Thor was cautious, knowing how awful Loki’s brothers were, but hopeful that he could share his own, kind, brother. And he did not want to leave without seeing him again. Loki didn’t seem to mind.

“Of course.”

“Perhaps you might resume your glamor, until I’ve explained things? They won’t know yet that the war is over, and I don’t want to alarm them.”

It was fascinating to watch the white return, spreading out in tendrils before he was once again a marble statue.

Loki gave a little wave at the shadows in the corner of the room, and they darkened slightly. Thor picked up his trunks and followed him.

  
*****

Loki wasn’t sure what to expect from Thor’s brother. Thor hadn’t really spoken that much of him, but he must like him better than Loki liked his own brothers. Loki couldn’t imagine spending one second more on them than absolutely necessary. He quickly found that he did, indeed, like Baldr. The family was already seated at lunch, the schedule of farm life much earlier than in it was in a pleasure temple. The children had screamed when they saw him walk out of the shadows, but when Baldr and Astrid, his wife, saw Thor behind him, they were all confused smiles.

Their meals went ignored as Thor spoke quickly, explaining everything. Loki sat silent, watching with amusement the moment when the children realized that he was a storybook monster, how they dared each other to run in and touch the hem of his cloak before he could catch them. Before he knew it, he had shed his glamor and was chasing the little ones around the room, hands up like claws and wild snarlings pouring from his mouth as they ran from him, shrieking and laughing.

He stopped when he heard Thor’s laughter and looked up to see Thor, Baldr, and Astrid all watching him. He straightened quickly.

“Please don’t let us interrupt,” Astrid said quickly. “They’re never like this with strangers, ever.”

Loki nodded. He certainly didn’t need to hear Thor’s version of their story, inflating Loki into a legendary hero, rather than a desperate lovesick fool. So he turned back to the children, baring his teeth.

“Tell me, which one of you has the tenderest meat?”

*****

The four adults sat together after the children had gone to bed, sipping at glasses of mead and talking quietly.

“Godhood and a wing of Glaðsheim,” Baldr said, shaking his head. “It’s certainly not the life I’d pictured you living, little brother, but you look happy.”

“I am happy,” Thor said, leaning his knee against Loki’s. Loki met it with a quiet hum, so low none but Thor could hear it.

Baldr and Astrid, with their farm schedules, had been fighting yawns for hours. When their mead was gone, Thor rose reluctantly.

“I must let you retire,” he said, his voice sad. “You will be tired tomorrow.”

Baldr looked torn. He had missed most of today’s work, and Thor knew it would be hard to the point of foolishness to miss another from being too tired. Yet this leaving must be as hard for Baldr as it was for Thor, or worse.

“Loki?” he asked, his face silently asking for a moment alone for his goodbyes.

Loki nodded slightly in return. “I’ll open the path to Jotunheim. Give me a few minutes to find furs before you come through.”

He shook Baldr’s hand, and Astrid gave him a warm hug. Loki, his prickly Loki, patted her back awkwardly, but he didn’t shrug out of it, and he loved him for it almost more than for the play with the children. Then Loki nodded his head graciously and was gone.

“Come visit sometimes if you can, brother,” said Baldr.

“I will,” Thor said. “I know not how much I will be able to use the Bifrost for my own needs, but I will do my best. And while I do not want to overly impose on Loki, I will ask him sometimes as well.”

Baldr clasped him close for a moment. Then Astrid was in his arms, hugging him _almost_ as warmly as she had Loki. She hadn’t been lying about her happiness in seeing her children open to someone so easily.

“You have yourself a good man, Thor,” she told him. “I know he is many other things as well, but at heart, he is a good man. That’s a rare blessing,” she said as she linked her fingers with Baldr’s.

“I know. It is,” he said. Then there was nothing more to say, and he picked up his trunks and followed Loki into the shadows.

Thor could feel the moment he entered Jotunheim, before he was out of the darkness. The cold took his breath away. It was unimaginably cold, so ferocious his bones were already aching by the time Loki was there and throwing furs all over him.

“You said you wanted to see my home,” he said wryly. “What do you think?”

“I… it’s…”

“Yes, it is, rather. These are my chambers. I started a fire for you, is it not enough?”

“Fire?” Thor could barely speak over his chattering teeth.

“Mmm. That’s a no. Here-” Loki twisted two fingers and suddenly the fire was almost frighteningly massive, making room was pleasantly warm, enough that he could shrug off the furs.

“Thank you.” Thor was still shivering slightly, but he was getting more comfortable quickly.

“So, do you still want the grand tour of Jotunheim?” Loki asked, teasing.

“I think perhaps…”

“All you really need to know is that it’s cold, and I’m smaller and better-looking than other jotuns.” Loki winked at him. “If you’d like to remain here, I won’t be more than an hour. The door is warded, no one can bother you.” He gestured towards a bookcase with his head. “Help yourself while I’m away.”

Thor wasn’t particularly in the mood for reading, but it seemed enough better than the alternative, seeing the palace through a layer of ice on his eyeballs, so he selected a familiar one and curled up in Loki’s bed to read. If it could be called a bed. It was a slab of ice with a huge pile of furs on it. Thor had slept on worse, though.

*****

Loki left Thor cocooned in his bed and went straight to the throne room. Laufey was seated there, Helblindi and Byleistr near him, and courtiers standing on the floor below. Laufey was in the midst of some dull, droning speech when Loki walked in.

“Ah, Laufey, so glad I caught you,” he said. Amiable. Just two jotuns saying hello.

Laufey’s eyes narrowed.

“Loki. You have some nerve showing yourself here,” growled Helblindi.

“And you have more nerve not sending my share of the treasury to my chambers on Asgard,” Loki replied, speaking in that honeyed tone that most annoyed his brother.

“It will bankrupt us,” Laufey spat.

“It will merely mean you don’t get mead for a few months, and Norns know you can do without it. You’ll be making money soon enough, now that the war is over, and I’ll be receiving my share of that as well,” Loki returned smoothly. “But I’ll do you one final favor, and go retrieve it myself. I just thought I’d come say goodbye to my _dear_  family.”

He was met with silence. It was all he could do to keep a straight face as he walked out of the throne room, feeling the glares like daggers in the back of his neck. Once in the hall, door shut, he collapsed against the wall, weak with laughter.

When he managed to calm down, he went to the treasury and with a wave, sent it through a shadow. Then, with a thought, he pulled a small handful of coins back through and tossed them to the floor, and with a another gesture hand he replaced Laufey’s sneering visage with curves and whorls. Loki’s scars. It was even better than leaving them with nothing.

Not feeling any real need to see the palace again, he took the shadows to Angrboða’s chamber. Finding it empty, he left a parting gift - another emerald, she loved those, and it was enough for an easy goodbye - and then back to his room, where he found Thor snoring in his bed. He let him sleep as he quietly gathered together his belongings, summoning his globe from the observation tower. He was somewhat surprised to see how many of these things he actually wanted to keep, despite how much he had hated his life here. He sent his trunks ahead, and gently woke Thor with a kiss. His sleeping beauty. At least until Thor awoke with a truly awesome snort.

“Thor, it’s time to go.”

Thor rubbed his eyes. “We just got here.”

“You’ve been asleep. I’ve gotten my things together, shall we go on to Asgard?”

Thor was instantly, fully awake. “I’m ready,” he said.

“The path is open, there-” Loki gestured, and Thor was up and through it before Loki could finish his sentence. He sighed and followed.

Thor was standing just inside the path, and Loki crashed into him the darkness before they stood close, gazing together into Thor’s first glimpse of Asgard. It was warm, and golden, and there was no more perfect place for Thor to be, Loki thought. He slipped his arms around Thor’s waist.

“You can go in,” he said softly. “This is our home now.”

“ _This_ room is ours?” Thor asked, dumbfounded.

“Well, not just this one, of course,” Loki answered. “I told you we had a wing. But this is our bedchamber. I thought you might be still tired, the way I cut off your nap.”

“I was…” answered Thor. “But now… I think I would like to look around, if that is all right with you.”

“Of course. Set down your trunks, and I’ll show you.”

Thor walked slowly in, leaving his things in a corner, and Loki took his hand.

“I didn’t have anything decorated yet, Odin offered to have the servants get started on it before I came for you, but…” he trailed off.

“But what?” Thor asked, curious. _I wasn’t sure you’d want to come_ , Loki thought. _I couldn’t bear to have tried to make it perfect for you and then not have you in it with me_.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, and I thought it was better for us to do it together,” he said, and that was true as well. Thor’s room at the temple had been so simple, it made it hard to get an idea of what he would want surrounding him, if he had the chance to choose anything.

Thor squeezed his hand, and if he had noticed Loki’s hesitation, he didn’t let on. Loki took him first to their small library, assuring Thor that they were also welcome to use the palace library, but it had seemed best to have one of their own, as well.

“For when I want to read dirty books to you.”

“Before you know it, I’ll be reading dirty books to _you_ ,” Thor teased.

“Mmmm,” Loki purred. “Let’s make sure that whatever else is going on, we don’t let your reading lessons fall away.”

They also saw their outer chambers, where they would receive visitors, the only room with doors leading both to their own hall and to the greater hall beyond, a business room with a huge desk - “I’d like a mirror in here,” Thor said - and their bath chambers. The look of wonder that had been growing on Thor’s face threatened to completely overwhelm him here. The tub was twice as large and deep as the one at the temple, and he had thought that one huge. It was carved of dark green marble, and it had golden pieces at one end. A cupboard stood full of soaps, lotions, and towels, while heavy robes hung near the door.

“Would you like to bathe?” Loki asked him. He nodded, silent.

Loki lowered the stopper and turned on both taps, adjusting until the water was the right temperature, and began shrugging out of his clothes.

“Grab some soap, would you, Thor?” Loki asked as he struggled out of a boot. “Thor?”

Thor was staring at the faucet. “Can I work this too, or is it your seiðr?” he asked.

“You can do it,” Loki said. “Just let me get out of these things and I’ll show you how.”

Thor nodded and kept staring at the water as Loki undressed them both. Loki ended up getting the soap, then took Thor’s hand and led him down the steps into the tub.

“We have our own pond, Loki,” he said.

Loki chuckled. “Here, it works like this-” Loki turned the hot water off and on again, then repeated it with the cold, letting Thor feel the change in the stream that poured from the high arch of the faucet, then turned them both off. “You try it.”

He stepped back. It took Thor a minute to get the hang of balancing the temperatures, the little pause he had to give before it would be reflected in what he felt pouring over him.

“I’ve never even heard of such a thing before,” he said.

“They’re pretty common here, and I think they have them on Vanaheim as well,” Loki said. “We didn’t on Jotunheim, obviously, but I was here often enough as I grew up that it’s been familiar to me for a long time.”

Thor looked at him speculatively. “How long is a long time?” he asked.

“Well, not that long, really. I’m only six hundred and thirty seven.”

Thor stared.

“What? I’m young, yet. Probably younger than you, relatively.”

“Relatively,” Thor said. “You’re six hundred and thirty seven.”

“Six hundred and thirty eight next month. You should probably get started thinking of a present.”

Thor sank back into the water. He really did look awfully nice, floating there like that. Loki was starting to get some enjoyable ideas when he realized that Thor had fallen asleep. He washed himself quickly, then woke Thor, letting him stay in a half-dreaming state while he soaped him up as well, then let the stopper up, showing Thor how to use it.

Thor seemed nearly dead on his feet as he stood next to the tub. Loki rubbed him gently with a plush towel, and laid him down on the bench that stood against one wall. He fetched a bottle of lotion and eased it over the warm skin, Thor moaning in sleepy pleasure. Loki rolled him over and did his back as well, working a little harder over the tight shoulders, and led him to bed.

 


	22. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day in Asgard. Thor gets to spar, and Loki keeps a promise.

Soft footsteps approached their door the next morning, and Loki reached for a robe expecting a knock, but instead, a note was slid into the room. Loki rose to fetch it, and Thor was glad they hadn’t knocked. He liked Loki being naked as much as possible. Loki slid back between the sheets, handing it to him.

“It’s got your name on it,” he said.

“Oh,” said Thor, surprised. He cracked the seal and opened it.

 _"Dear Thor,"_  it began,

_“Please forgive the unusual nature of this introduction, but as you are so new to Asgard, and have the reputation of a warrior, I would like to invite you to the sparring grounds at ten this morning. I will be meeting there with some friends, and if you have no other plans, we would be honored to have you join us. If you can attend, any page will be able to show you the way. If you are too busy, as I think likely, we can plan for another day._

_Best wishes,_

_Fandral”_

Thor had held it out for them both to read it together, and Loki, of course, finished it first. Which meant that Thor had to read the second half of it while Loki was trying to distract him, running his hands all over Thor’s arms, his chest, his legs.

“See?” Loki purred at him as he finally set it down. “No one can resist this. I bet if this Fandral had a viewing globe I would have had some competition on my hands.”

Thor laughed. “You wouldn’t.”

“It is a kind invitation, though,” said Loki. “Are you going to go?”

“Sparring with a bunch of gods? I’ll likely get my ass handed to me on a platter. But I will also learn much,” he said thoughtfully. “Yes, I think I will, if you don’t mind me leaving you for a time.”

“Not at all.” Loki kissed him on the nose. “I already know some people here, and you should as well. And I know how much you missed it, the past year.”

“I did.”

Loki rummaged through one of his wardrobes, digging through until he found something that seemed to satisfy him.

“Here, I think these are large enough to fit you. I assume they’d be more comfortable than your kilt for sparring?”

Thor looked at the light shirt and trousers that Loki held out. They were indeed large enough, and he couldn’t help laughing as he pictured them hanging off Loki like a tent.

Loki looked at them, then down at his own body, and glared at him.

After they had eaten, Thor dressed and, swallowing down his nerves, took his first steps in Glaðsheim without Loki.

He walked just a few minutes before finding a page, who was happy to escort him to the grounds. Two men were already there, stretching and warming up, and they smiled at him as he arrived.

The blond man hailed him. “Thor! I’m so glad you could come. I am Fandral, and this is Hogun.” The dark haired man nodded at him.  “We’re still waiting for Volstagg, who is probably just finishing up his breakfast. What do you think, Hogun, three of them today?”

Thor was puzzled, but just then, a large man heaved into view, and Thor understood. Three _breakfasts_. Still, despite his size, when they began to spar Thor saw quickly that he was a strong and skilled fighter.

They fought for several hours, stopping occasionally for water. There was little conversation, but a mutual respect grew over the course of the day, and at the end, while Thor felt like he had, indeed, been handed his ass on a platter, he thought perhaps it had taken a bit longer to reach that point than he had expected. Apparently the others thought so as well.

“Your fighting is impressive for a mortal,” offered Hogun. “I expected to need to restrain myself with you, and I did not.”

“I’m afraid we’ve left you a bit of a mess, though,” Volstagg laughed.

Thor looked down and took in the growing bruises and the blood smeared all around.

“It’s nothing compared to how Loki will react if I show up in our chambers like this,” he said ruefully. “He’s more on the clean and tidy side than I am.”

“Come to the baths with us, then,” urged Fandral. “You can wash, and have a servant take your clothes to be cleaned while you wear a robe back to your hall.”

“Thank you,” Thor said. “I would like that.”

These baths weren’t as luxurious as those he shared with Loki, but they were still far beyond anything he had known before coming to Asgard, and he took full advantage. The others laughed as they watched his delight, but it was friendly laughter, not mocking, as though they were sharing in his own happiness.

As they were drying off, Fandral pointed out the robes and the little bin where Thor could leave his dirty clothes. “The servants here have an uncanny ability to pair clothes with people,” he said. “They’ll be back to you within a day.”

Then they were saying goodbye, and promising to invite him to their next session, and Thor began to look around, realizing that he had no idea where he was.

“I can show you your way back, if you would like,” Hogun offered.

“Thank you. If it’s not too much trouble, I would be grateful.”

They walked in almost total silence, but it was companionable and restful after so much activity, not awkward. Hogun smiled and nodded as Thor thanked him, and slipped off silently.

*****

Thor showed up in their chambers absolutely glowing. Loki was taken aback at the sight of his body as he shrugged out of his robe to put one of his kilts on, though, and he insisted that Thor let him heal the appalling layer of bruises and cuts while Thor told him about his day.  It was rather fun, listening to Thor try to talk while Loki licked him carefully, all over, seiðr spilling from his tongue.

It was even more fun when Thor reached for him and he danced out of the way. “I must dress for dinner, Thor.”

The way Thor’s eyes narrowed at the teasing, Loki suspected that he was in for some taunting of his own before they were back in their chambers. Loki pulled his own clothes on quickly and they left for their first meal in the great dining hall, Loki grabbing him just before they left their hall to plant a quick, demanding kiss on Thor, pawing his cock through his kilt, before telling him, “Later.”

Loki was sure, then, that a life spent making Thor make that face would be a life well spent.

Dinner was, blessedly, fairly short. Loki was grateful for their new home here, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with a feast just yet, after all he had been through in the past few days. They had been invited to the high table, where Loki sat to Frigga’s right, with Thor on his own right. Odin was to her left, and next to him was an ambassador from Muspelheim, their heads lowered together in talk for the entire meal. It left Loki chatting with the queen and Thor to talk with Tyr. It could have been taken as a grave insult, to place Thor above him, and Loki had been worried when they were first shown to their seats.

“No fear, lad,” Tyr told him. “The boy’s life is in an uproar, I wouldn’t demand he move lower down and be separated from you.”

It had always amused Loki, the way Tyr spoke to him as if he were a child, even though he hated it from everyone else. Perhaps when it came from a grizzled warrior twice his father’s age, it was easier to accept.

The queen’s conversation was light and easy; she was a skilled hostess, able to put anyone at ease, it seemed. Even better, it wasn’t just small talk. She was quite clever, and shared Loki’s taste in books, asking for his opinion on things and raising ideas that he’d never considered before. The food was delicious as well. Overall, it proved to be a very enjoyable evening, and one that boded quite well for their future happiness here. He hadn’t listened to Thor’s conversation, figuring that he’d be filled in later, but he had been glad to hear his laughter mingling so often with Tyr’s.

They remained seated until the servants had cleared the tables, and then Odin stood to wish the attendees a good evening. The ambassador excused himself, shivering and ready to return to his heated chambers. Frigga turned to Loki.

“I thank you for the delightful conversation,” she said graciously. “I trust we will have many opportunities to continue it. Perhaps we might work together, as well? I know so few seiðr workers of such skill, and I think we have much to learn from each other.”

Loki bowed. “It would be both an honor and a pleasure, my lady,” he answered.

“Then it will be so. ” She nodded her head to him, said something softly to Odin, who bowed to her, and she was gone. Loki turned to talk to Thor, only to find he had disappeared. Probably wandered somewhere with Tyr, he thought. They certainly had hit it off well enough.

He made some small conversation with Odin, not as easily as it came with Frigga, but pleasant enough, before making his excuses to leave.

When he got back to their chambers, Thor was there waiting, nearly bouncing with excitement.  Loki looked at him suspiciously.

“What are you so worked up about, Thor?”

“We haven’t… _you know_ … at all today, Loki,” Thor said, his face furtive.

“Why do I have the feeling that’s not what this is about?”

“Well, it’s true.”

Loki’s suspicions deepened, but Thor cleverly distracted him by taking off his kilt. _Sneaky_ , thought Loki. _I’m rubbing off on him._

Then Thor was trying his very best to rub off on Loki. Or that’s what it felt like, anyway, as Thor pressed against him, grinding their hips together and pulling on his ass to increase the friction. _Any good trickster knows when to go along with tricks,_  he decided, grabbing onto Thor and pushing himself back.

“I never got to finish tending your injuries, Thor,” he murmured. “Why don’t you just relax and let me take care of you?”

He got Thor on the bed and began licking him all over, his tongue at once easing pain and giving pleasure, and he wasn’t sure how much of Thor’s moans were from one versus the other, but he found he didn’t care, as the bruised and cut skin gave way to golden wholeness. He felt almost languid, his eyelids heavy as he roamed Thor’s body so slowly, he could have done this for years and enjoyed every moment, the way Thor shifted under him, the way the muscles coiled and stretched under the skin as his tongue went over them, and then his own urgency was building, and he wanted Thor _now_.

He shifted to lay down next to Thor, smirking with an idea. Thor had just time to register it, and before he could react, Loki gave a small tilt of his head, and suddenly Thor was stretched open and slick, ready to receive him, and making a _very_  strange face indeed.

“Loki?” he asked uncertainly.

Loki kissed him. “I’ve had to hold so much of myself back from you, Thor, and I don’t want to anymore, I want you to know what it is to be with a seiðmaðr. But if there’s anything you don’t like, you can always say.  _Was_  that all right?”

Thor looked slightly perplexed, still, but he answered easily enough. “It was, just… warn me in the future, perhaps? It was a little tingly.”

“Fair enough. Now come here, I want you above me.”

His obedience was pure and swift, as he swung a leg over Loki and sank down upon his length. Loki moaned and drove up into him, grabbing his hips to control their pace as he braced his own feet on the bed to add power to his thrusts. Thor’s face was a mask of ecstasy, his mouth hanging open and eyes half shut as he panted and shoved at the hair that clung damply to his forehead. Loki loved Thor’s face like this, and he moved his hands away to let Thor take control of their speed, resting them on broad, golden thighs and loving how he could feel the power and strength within them. He was a force to be reckoned with, even as a mortal. As a god, he would be one of the true powers. It made his willingness - his desire - to obey when Loki was in a demanding mood all the more exquisite.

“Thor?” It was becoming a struggle to speak, but he was determined, he wanted to hear it out loud.

“Loki?” Thor panted.

“Tell me what you would do for me.”

 Thor brought his gaze down to Loki’s, then, and met his eyes as he gasped his answer.

 “Anything… whatever you want, Loki, I want it too...”

Loki’s cock throbbed at the words. Such devotion merited reward.

“Get up a moment, darling.”

Thor moaned in protest. “Please, Loki, I’m so close…”

“Just a moment, I promise. It’ll be worth it.”

Thor reluctantly rose his hips off Loki, and it took all of Loki’s willpower not to follow him up, not to pull him back down, but he spoke instead.

“Turn around, Thor, I want you facing the other way now.”

Thor whirled and sank quickly back down, giving a gasp as Loki’s cock pressed extra hard on the little spot that always set him off. He carefully leaned back so that his weight was resting on his hands on either side of Loki’s stomach, the position letting him move easily as he rode Loki harder and harder, the noises coming out of him nearly driving Loki over the edge as he panted _yesyesLokiyesohgodsLoki_  and it was getting very difficult to keep his control but Loki wanted to be sure Thor got his reward, and he gritted his teeth to hold back his own pleasure as he flicked his hand, and a double appeared standing next to the bed.

“Thor,” Loki managed to gasp out as he tugged at Thor’s hair to turn his head, “would you like his mouth?”

Thor’s answer wasn’t exactly comprehensible, but it did sound intensely positive, so Loki nodded at the double, which silently sank to its knees between their legs. Loki couldn’t see what was going on, then, but he could see the spasms in the muscles of Thor’s back, hear the pleading that streamed from him, feel how he tightened around Loki, the way his thrusts both up and down were now equally intense, and then he was squeezing and collapsing and shouting his pleasure, and Loki let go and his arms were around Thor’s chest, pulling him down harder as he slammed his hips upward, twice more, and he was emptying himself, digging his teeth into Thor’s shoulder as both their bodies spasmed helplessly together.

*****

“I’m still suspicious,” Loki told him as they lay there afterward, both of them covered in a bright sheen of sweat.

Thor’s face suddenly managed to look incredibly innocent, especially considering that the rest of him looked utterly fucked out.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Yes, Loki thought. Definitely rubbing off. He couldn’t have been prouder.

 


	23. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki can be romantic, but he's more likely to be cranky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's continuing to read and for all the lovely feedback! Enjoy!

The rosy dawn peaked gently into their chambers, coaxing them both awake. It was early, and the palace was still, no need to rise just yet. They lay quietly together, Loki’s arm thrown over Thor’s chest and his breath teasing Thor’s hair.  The peaceful silence led Loki to thinking about things that his earlier busyness had allowed him to put off.

For all his outward calmness, his stomach was in knots, nearly as bad as when he had first shown Thor his true face. It annoyed him, that he could be affected this way, and he peevishly pinched Thor’s arm. Thor just chuckled and rolled to face him, annoying him further. He was surely the most infuriating man in all the realms.

“What have I done now?” he rumbled happily. “Did I make you feel cozy and contented for a moment? Oh! Oh! I’ve got it. You caught yourself thinking about taking me on a romantic picnic-”

Loki pinched him again, setting off another peal of laughter.

“Yes, a romantic picnic, with little sandwiches, and strawberries and cream, and after we ate you’d pick wildflowers and weave them into my hair.”

More pinching turned into a tickle fight, both of them gasping for breath as they laughed and wrestled all across the wide bed, finally collapsing in a single panting heap. Thor batted his eyelashes at Loki. He did it so terribly that Loki was fairly sure he’d never done it before, but it made him smile despite that, or perhaps because of it.

“There, that’s better. Now, tell me what it was that set this off?”

Loki took a shuddering breath, nerves suddenly returning in full force. “I want to marry you,” he said, and his voice was not nearly as even as he meant it to be.

Thor looked perplexed. “But I have no property, and neither of us can bear children… can you bear children in your natural form?” he asked, suspicious.

Loki shook his head. “No, jotun sexes are basically the same as they are with you.” A discussion of the full extent of Loki’s shapeshifting ability could wait until later.  “On Asgard, property and children aren’t the only reasons to wed.”

Thor’s brow furrowed in confusion.

 _Deep breath, Loki,_  he told himself. “Asgardians also marry for love.”

“Marry for love…” Thor pondered a moment, his face slowly clearing. “You wish to marry me for love. _Yes_. I wish that as well, with all my heart. I knew you cared for me, but… _you love me, Loki_ ,” he breathed, his voice the most perfect worship any god could ever hear.

Loki glared and pinched him again.

Thor’s smile was like the sun as he surged forward to wrap Loki in his burly arms. “I love you, too,” he said.

Loki somehow managed to suppress another glare. “I’ll speak to Odin, then,” he said. “Shall we have the ceremony directly following your apotheosis, or would you like more time?”

“No, less time. Let’s go right now,” Thor begged. “I want to be your husband before the hour is gone. I would be your husband right now, yesterday if I could.”

But Loki shook his head.  “No. You’ve known me as a temple visitor to be served, and you’ve known me as a god. I would marry you as an equal.”

Thor inclined his head, acquiescing with a raw, open look on his face at Loki’s words. “But if I have to wait, tell me how you feel?” he pleaded.

Loki did glare then. Thor knew very well how he felt about discussing his feelings. But Thor was insistent, holding his level gaze on Loki as he waited patiently. His jaw was set in determination, and Loki didn’t need the ability to read minds to know that Thor was thinking of the times he made Thor speak words that brought a burning flush to his face. There was no escaping this. Loki fixed his stare firmly on his fists.

“Do you love me, Loki?” Thor asked softly.

“I love you.”

Thor curled against him then, head tucked into Loki’s shoulder, and made a happy little hum as he settled in. Maybe, just maybe, saying such things was all right.

Occasionally.

*****

The week passed in a flurry of activity. Their chambers had so many seamstresses Thor almost thought that he and Loki had taken up residence in the sewing hall. Not fifteen minutes managed to pass without one or another of them needing him to try something on, generally something with pins all over it, and by the end of each day, he was covered in little red marks that stung quite a lot for how tiny they were. Loki seemed to enjoy going carefully over his body, though, and while Thor suspected that licking wasn’t how gods _usually_  performed their healings, he wasn’t going to complain.

He certainly got used to it much faster than to the seamstresses themselves, with their deferential manner and quiet voices calling him _my lord_.  He’d tried to argue a few times, but they grew confused and flustered, until Loki pointed out that while he wasn’t married to a prince yet, he was about to be, and why get them used to calling him one thing when it was going to change in just a few days? He’d accepted it, then, though it still felt most strange.

Then the week was gone, and he had four full wardrobes, and there was nothing else to do but waiting for the next day with its dual ceremonies. He stood in front of the wardrobe of fineries, running a careful hand over the luxurious velvets and gleaming silks. He had seen and touched such things before, on the wealthier temple visitors, but he’d never had any of his own. Loki slipped an arm around his waist and rested his head on his shoulder. He hadn’t even heard him approach, but he was glad of the comforting gesture, the soft weight, as he was faced with such tangible proof of the turn his life was about to take. A sudden thought occurred to him.

“Loki?” he asked.

“Mmmm?”

“How am I to pay for all these things?”

“Oh! I paid for them, of course. When we are wed, all my coffers will be yours, if there is anything you want that I didn’t order. I just told them to get you set up with the basics. I thought you wouldn’t want to wear your temple kilts all the time.”

It stung. Did Loki think that now that he lived on Asgard he had to hide his past? “I’m not ashamed of my work there,” Thor said sharply.

“Darling, of course not,” Loki soothed. “It was honest work - I’ve spent enough time in courts and diplomacy to know honest work when I see it -  and without it we’d never have met. But it seems we’re to keep eating at the high table, and you might get tired of squeezing your knees together for entire meals.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I thought-”

“Don’t worry. I know some mortals look down on hierodores, but trust me, gods have no such biases against people who spend their lives in worship.” Loki winked at him.

Thor grinned back. “But really, Loki, look at all these clothes! What am I to do with them all? I can’t possibly need so much.”

Loki pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “The Asgardians are fond of celebrations, and you have millennia before you here. These clothes will have fallen into rags long before you have a single silver hair.”

“Millennia,” Thor echoed. He’d known, of course, but it was suddenly much more real, as he imagined these clothes aging into tatters while his body went unchanged. Loki squeezed his waist as Thor turned and pressed their foreheads together. “I have millennia with you,” he whispered, his heart full of fierce joy.

Loki smiled. “You’re not getting out of it that easily, you know,” he said. “You don’t really think we’ll be separated in Valhalla, do you?”

 _Valhalla._  Thor’s lips silently formed the word, eyes widening.

Loki closed the wardrobe, easing the doors shut quietly. “Come to bed, my love,” he said softly. “Tomorrow is a big day.”

Cool fingers entwined with his own and led him to their bed. He stood, half numb, as Loki’s skillful hands undressed him. He was glad that Loki did it without seiðr, tonight, glad of the gentle contact as his mind struggled to grasp the true concept of _forever_.

He slid into bed, watching Loki pull his own clothes off more quickly before joining him and tugging the blankets over them both. He drifted off with Loki in his arms, thinking blissfully, _I get to do this forever._  He had one more thought before sleep overtook him. _Loki called me his love_. And that was even better.


	24. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shopping is way more fun with money. Also, when Thor gets an idea, he does not do things half-assed.

Loki barely slept that night. He had grown up knowing that he had a god’s lifespan, and eventual home in the hall of the chosen ones, and it was a joy to make the new discovery through Thor’s eyes. There would be so many moments like this, he realized. Things he had always taken for granted would be seen anew, and Thor’s happiness would be his happiness. He wanted to take Thor everywhere and show him everything, all at once, and he wanted to spread it out over centuries, savoring each new delight to its fullest. He spent the night thinking of all the things he wanted to share with Thor, smiling as he thought of presenting him a list and telling him to number them in the order he wanted to experience them.

The room slowly grew light. Thor looked so impossibly young when he slept, like a little boy, and Loki wanted to build a castle around him to keep him safe. He was pondering the practical aspects of such a plan when Thor’s breathing began to change, and then half-open blue eyes were peering at him. Loki leaned towards him and rubbed their noses together, earning himself a sleepy smile. Then Thor’s eyes shot open, fully awake.

“What time is it?” he gasped.

“I heard it chime eight, not long before you woke.”

Thor jumped from the bed and began to dress quickly.

“Hogun told me that there is a monthly market held in the town. He said that he was meeting Fandral and Volstagg in the dining hall at eight thirty to break their fasts together before going to the market, and he invited me to go with them. - If you don’t mind?”

Loki shook his head. “Of course not, you should go. I’m glad you’re making friends so quickly,” he said. A part of him wanted to be the only one Thor ever wanted and needed, but a larger and more sensible part realized that no one could ever be that for someone else, and he truly was happy to see Thor making friends.

Thor looked at his feet. “Last night, you said…”

“Mmmm?” Loki fervently hoped Thor wouldn’t bring up the _my love_. It had just slipped out, and it was far too early in the morning for discussing such things.

“...you said that your coffers would also be mine once we wed?”

“Yes, of course,” Loki said, puzzled.

“Could I take something now? Not much, just, since I’m going to the market, I’d like to have something in my pocket. I’ve never done that before,” he explained.

Loki fought back the tears that suddenly rose to his eyes. To not once be able to buy so much as a simply pastry. The lives of the people who worshipped the Jötnar might have been unpleasant in many ways, vulnerable as they were in such a harsh climate, but they had never expected to receive labor in return for nothing more than food and shelter. If anyone had tried, Laufey would have sent some _very_  harsh omens. Loki’s father might be a coward and a lush, but even he had some vague sense of right and wrong, at least in dealing with worshippers.

“Of course,” Loki said again, rising from the bed. “I should have showed you before.”

He led Thor out of their bedchamber and down the hall, stopping at the last door on the right, one Thor didn’t remember from their earlier tour.

“The door is spelled so that only you and I can see or enter it, and it only appears when we are looking for it.”

He stood back, letting Thor open it and lead them inside. Thor’s breath hitched.

“I… I had no idea,” he said.

“I _did_  nearly empty Jotunheim’s treasury,” Loki explained. “As well as receiving Laufey’s word that I would receive a percentage of the royal house’s income for the rest of our lives.”

“You emptied Jotunheim’s treasury,” Thor repeated, staring at the piles of gold.

“Well, yes,” said Loki. “It seemed only fair since I was the one who ended the war. With that done, the realm will be prospering again in no time, and I wanted enough to get us established properly.”

“Properly,” Thor echoed.

“Yes, properly. So take as much as you like and get out, unless you’ve decided to spend the morning standing and staring rather than going with Hogun.”

That made him move. He picked up three gold pieces, looking at Loki for confirmation.

“Oh, take more than that,” Loki said. “You have no idea what sorts of things will be at the market. This really only needs to keep us a couple of years, anyway.”

Thor smiled then, and stuffed his pockets. He planted a quick kiss on Loki’s lips and was running out the door, Loki’s voice trailing after him.

“Don’t forget, you’re to be made a god at one-thirty. It’s best not to be late for such events.”

“All right, father,” Thor’s voice laughed back.

*****

The market was delightful. There were artists, and people selling pastries, and the products of their farms, and jewelry, and seidr-infused tools, and Thor wanted to buy everything for Loki. Only the knowledge that this happened every month held him back. He did decide to buy three things, though, unable to resist.

First, something give to Loki today. He found someone selling little glass orbs that swirled with seidr inside. It looked like the lights that flickered in the winter sky, delicate green and somewhere between lightning and clouds. These were surely the merest trinkets compared to Loki’s seeing globe, but they were beautiful, and the way the seidr danced reminded him of his own heart when Loki was near, and it told his feelings in a way his words could not.

Next, something for their honeymoon. That one was easy. Thor had seen how Loki’s face lit up a few nights ago when it was announced that their dinner would include potato, and he had been planning this ever since. He could almost have laughed with happiness as he watched the bliss with which Loki took every bite. He himself found it palatable though slightly dull. Perhaps jotun tongues simply tasted things differently.

In any case, Thor had taken advantage of Frigga talking with Loki one night to sneak away, asking directions until he found the kitchen, and charmed the cook into telling him how to prepare potato. He spoke so sweetly, she ended up giving him a whole list of recipes. At the time, he had simply thought he might learn  to prepare them simple meals when they did not feel like leaving their hall, but this was even better. Loki had refused to say where they would be going for their honeymoon, but he did let it slip that the two of them would be in the wilderness, so Thor bought enough potato to last them the whole time. Fandral’s eyes widened slightly when he saw the huge sack over Thor’s shoulder, so heavy that he was nearly bent double to keep his balance, but Hogun just smiled.

The third gift, to give to Loki when they returned, would be the most difficult. Thor found a slender book, its pages blank and its covers patterned in blue and green. It didn’t match their eyes, but that didn’t really matter. With it, he bought a quill and a jar of ink. He wanted to fill it with words of love for Loki.

His writing wasn’t really very good yet, and his spelling was even worse. He was no wordsmith, either, but at least his letters were still very large, so he wouldn’t have to write as much. And he suspected Loki would mind none of this,and all that really mattered was that he feel the love that had inspired such a task.

When he arrived back in their chambers, staggering under the weight of his bags, Loki looked at him - and the bags - very innocently.  _Much_  too innocently.

“No peeking!” Thor demanded.

Loki’s mouth and eyes widened in mock offense. Thor unloaded himself and swooped down, sticking his tongue between Loki’s gaping lips, and it was nearly bitten off as Loki convulsed in laughter.

“That felt very strange, Thor,” he said.

“Well, it’s what you get,” Thor answered airily.

“Mmm. I take it you had a good time?”

“Very much so. I have never seen anyone eat so many pies as Volstagg.”

Loki smiled at him then, holding his arms open. “That’s good. I like to see you looking so happy.”

Thor bent down into Loki’s embrace, then tightened his arms and stood, pulling Loki up with him and dancing him down the hall, to the small, airy room where their luncheon had been laid out for them.

“We must eat quickly. It is nearly noon, and I’m not sure how to get into some of my new clothes,” he said.

*****

Loki nearly had to put his head on the table when he realized what they had to eat. The table was completely covered, half with potatoes and half with a variety of sweet pastries. Thor obviously hadn’t taken long in getting the kitchen staff wrapped around his little finger, and at some point Loki would have to talk to him about proper nutrition. For now, though, he delighted in the way Thor’s cheeks puffed up as he crammed them with sweets, and in the proud look Thor gave him as he ate from the variety of potato dishes. Nothing but potato. As good as it was, Loki did appreciate a little variety beyond mashed-versus-boiled. Thor looked _so happy_ , though, and suddenly Loki couldn’t begin to imagine a better pre-wedding meal.

*****

Thor’s heart thrilled as he watched Loki’s reaction to the special lunch that he’d wheedled out of the cook. Loki was so excited he almost collapsed onto the table, and he dug into the potato dishes with gusto. Thor was getting so nervous that he could barely eat, but he did his best to nibble on a few light pastries, content to sit and watch Loki devour his share.

 

 


	25. Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's proving to be a very good day indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank to everyone who continues to read and enjoy!

When they were done eating, Loki took his hand and led him to their bedchamber.

“I’ll dress while you pick out what you want to wear,” he told him. Thor ruffled through his ceremonial clothes a moment before turning to Loki.

“Is that how you’re going to look?” he asked shyly.

Loki looked at him, his trousers halfway on. “You don’t like these trousers?”

“I meant your skin. Is that how you’re going to look?”

“Oh. I hadn’t really thought. It’s just more comfortable to wear this skin in the climate here,” he said. “Would you like me to shift?”

“No, not if you’d be uncomfortable,” Thor said hurriedly. “I just… I mean, I am fond of this glamor. How could I not be? It’s how you looked when we first met. But… perhaps you’ll shift, just for our wedding? I’d like it to be purely you that I look at as I speak my promises.”

Loki gave him the strangest smile then as the white melted away to brilliant blue.

“Never hesitate to ask for this, Thor,” he breathed. “It’s not so bad as long as I stay out of the sun. And… I know how foreign it must look to you, no matter how beautiful you find the color, and I know you were raised to see my people as the enemies of your gods. So you wanting this at all…just… promise me you’ll never hesitate to ask.”

Thor found himself tangled in Loki’s arms before he was even aware he’d moved. He knew how hard it was for Loki to show such vulnerability, and he wanted to make sure that it was always met with the purest love and acceptance. In many ways Loki was still just beginning to open up to him, and though it would take time, Thor wanted him to feel perfectly safe in doing so, whenever it happened.

“I promise,” he said.

They dressed. Loki was efficient. Thor got himself so tangled up in some of the decorative straps and layers that he ended up unable to move until Loki managed to work him free, the task made all the harder by the fact that both of them were laughing so hard it was difficult to stay upright. After that, Loki ordered him to stand still while he dressed him properly. As nice as it always was to have Loki take his clothes off him, he found there was something especially tender about having Loki put his clothes _on_  him. It made him feel cared for, protected.

Almost before they knew it, a page was at the door, ready to escort them to the ceremonies. Loki buckled one last strap into place and looked at him proudly. “You look wonderful, Thor,” he said.

Loki certainly looked wonderful himself. He wore black with gold, and had somehow found the time to carefully run a finger laden with gold dust along the delicate ridges that whorled over his skin. Thor hadn’t even known he was nervous, until he realized that he must be so, terribly, since he felt no compulsion to run his tongue all along them. It turned out to be no less a pleasure to gaze upon him without lust. Loki’s cheeks took on a faint violet tinge under Thor’s gaze.

“Come on, then,” he snapped. “Let’s get you made into something a bit sturdier. Bring Mjölnir.”

Thor grinned at him as they left their hall. Loki rolled his eyes.

Almost before he knew it, they were in the throne room. It was packed full of people, but a narrow path had been left down the middle for them to walk. At the far end, Odin sat high upon Hliðskjálf, his bearing great and terrible and he watched their approach. As they drew near the foot of the throne, they saw Frigga standing on the steps halfway up. Thor had only met her briefly, but she had seemed kind and warm. He was also glad to see that his new friends had managed to shove themselves to the front row of people. Then Loki was squeezing his hand and letting go, going to take the space next to Fandral and nodding to Thor.

“Thor of Midgard, approach the throne,” Odin boomed out.

Thor managed to walk calmly forward, instead of vomiting. He was rather proud of himself for that.

“Thor, you are here today to receive a boon that was gained for you at high cost to the winner, but at even higher gain for the realms. Thus, your own fortune reflects the fortune of the realms. With the support of my gracious wife” - Odin sent a look to Frigga that seemed just a trifle sharp, Thor thought - “I have therefore elected to grant you an additional boon, one that was unsought but still earned. Approach, Thor, and kneel.”

He somehow got his legs to work more or less normally as he climbed the steps, finally falling to his knees before the throne. Odin lowered Gungnir to each of Thor’s shoulders, tapping them lightly, before pressing the tip against Thor’s heart. He felt a warmth pouring from it, pleasant at first, before it grew in intensity, hot and sparking and there was harshness, too, like giant stones crashing together inside his chest. It grew fierce and frightening, but Thor took it, knowing well that it was the price of Loki, and knowing how well Loki was worth it.

After what felt like years it faded, as though everything that had been in the staff had poured into him. He still felt the potential of all of it within him, but it was no longer painfully active. He took a deep breath to stabilize himself as Odin lowered the staff to Mjölnir. It was rather confusing for a moment, and then he felt a sudden jolt through his hip where she was lashed to his belt. It was like the strange sparking inside him was jumping between the two of them. Stranger still, he heard _singing_. Coming from her. She sounded happy, which was good, and then that was even stranger, that his hammer had a mood.

Odin leaned his staff against the throne and spoke again. “Rise. Turn and face your new people. Thor of Asgard, and god of thunder.”

Thor looked out over the waves of cheering people and smiled at them, a little uncertain. Then his eyes met Loki’s, and they shone with such pride and happiness that Thor’s heart swelled impossibly. He smiled again, confident in Loki if nothing else, and the cheering became deafening. When it settled down, Odin spoke again.

I believe we have another, perhaps less illustrious but even happier, occasion to celebrate today,” he said, rising from his seat and taking Thor’s arm to lead him down the steps. He stopped on the bottom step and gestured Thor down to the ground, nodding at Loki to come forward.

“Just a moment while I find my notes,” he whispered to them. “They were just in my pocket-”

Thor took the chance to lean towards Loki.

“It is kind of them, but why do these people care so much about me? I’ve barely met ten of them,” he said.

“You’re the symbol of peace,” Loki answered. “Asgard didn’t fight in the war, but they couldn’t help being affected by it.”

“But you’re the one who actually _ended_  it.”

Loki didn’t answer right away as Odin straightened, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket hopefully, before scowling and tossing it over his shoulder.

Loki leaned back to Thor. “That doesn’t matter. They know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t have let myself be burned alive for the good of _Jotunheim_.”

“But you would for me.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Thor grinned at him as Odin, finally holding his notes, began. “Please face each other and hold hands... Loki of Jotunheim, seiðmaðr and peace-weaver. Thor of Asgard, warrior and peace-pledge. You have fought and been fought for, have learned and been learned, have loved and been loved. Do you vow, here today, to continue to fight, learn, and love, for and with and beside each other, beyond even the ends of time itself?”

Thor had been afraid that his eyes may grow wet, but now that the moment was here, his eyes were as dry as his smile was wide, and he was so, so happy, to see how Loki’s own face reflected it back to him. Yes, wherever life took Loki, Thor wanted to follow and fight at his side if need be, to keep learning more layers of this fascinating, infuriating creature, and to love him always. _Beyond the ends of time itself_.

Odin fidgeted and cleared his throat.

“You do want to get married, right?” he said in an undertone, and they both jumped. Loki must have been wandering just as much as Thor was.

“I vow it,” said Loki. His red eyes glowed with such warmth at Thor that, suddenly, he could feel his own growing damp.

“I vow it,” said Thor.

Frigga stepped forward then, coming down from the higher place where she stood, as was her right as the goddess of marriage. She stood next to Odin and placed her hand above theirs, drawing delicate figures in the air above them as thin ropes of seidr spooling out from her fingertips and hung, shimmering and silver. Then she lowered her hand to her side, and the room was silent as the threads slowly lowered, wrapped around their wrists, and sank into them, disappearing beneath their skin, and they were married.

The crowd burst into cheers that put the earlier ones to shame, and Loki pulled Thor forwards and pressed a soft, chaste kiss upon his lips.


	26. Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding reception, and how to get away from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is extremely silly. I couldn't help it.

The reception was going beautifully, even if the treats that were scattered about the room were rather heavy on a few certain food types.

“Loki! Loki, come here!” said Thor through a very full mouth, dragging Loki over to one of the tables.  Loki looked at it in horror. Was that really-?

“I asked the cook to make a potato pie, just for us!” he said excitedly. Thor was very lucky that Loki loved him so much.

“Is it savory?” he asked carefully, suspecting that he already knew the ghastly answer.

“No, it’s sweet! Isn’t it wonderful?” asked Thor, his excitement somehow growing even further as he cut into it for a large slice.

Loki sighed as he cut the smallest piece he thought Thor might possibly deem acceptable. He took a tiny nibble of the point. Actually, you could barely taste the potato. It gave an odd texture, but it had absorbed the flavor of the custard that it was baked in, which apparently had marchpane mixed into it. The crust was rich and buttery. It wasn’t half bad, Loki decided. He’d have to make sure the cook received a sizeable reward for her skill. Perhaps Loki could arrange to double her salary, to make sure she never left, in case Thor remained determined to think up various potato ideas.

“Oh, look, Thor,” he said. “Your mead glass is empty. Why don’t you go get some more?”

Thor looked at his glass in surprise. It had been half full until Loki emptied it with a subtle finger wave, but he obviously didn’t suspect anything. “You’re right,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as his back was turned, Loki shoved the rest of his slice under a table cloth, mashing it down with the palm of his hand. It might not be half bad, but if ‘half bad’ was the future of his diet with Thor, he wanted to eat things that were _actually_  good while he had the chance. But first he wanted to talk to Odin. Glancing around the room, he saw him standing alone, and made his quick way through the masses of people.

“I am most grateful to you, All-Father, for everything-” Loki began.

Odin cut him off. “Talk to the queen,” he grumbled. “I have no say in such things.” Odin stomped off, surly. He was definitely growing on Lokil.

Loki looked over to Frigga, and indeed, she was smiling at him in a particularly knowing fashion. It reminded him a bit of himself. He’d always liked her, he thought, and if she had something to do with the events of the past year, he would be forever in her debt. He thought of the rumors of her own vision, said to supercede even that of Odin; people said that she saw the entire future, though she never spoke of it.

He approached her, bowing low to kiss her hand.

“My lady,” he greeted her.

“Loki. It was a lovely ceremony. They both were,” she added.

“How much of it was your doing?”

She looked as innocent as he did when he was being anything but. “Me? I just worked the seidr, you saw me,” she said.

He laughed. “I think you know what I mean.”

Her lips quirked. “Oh, that’s hard to say, really.”

“I highly doubt that,” he said dryly.

“I grew tired of watching the war,” she answered with a sigh. “You’ve heard, no doubt, that I see the whole future. What that really means is that I see all possible futures. So when I saw one with peace between Jotunheim and Vanaheim, I may have dropped a few subtle hints to Odin.”

“I am in your debt, then, more than I can ever begin to repay. If you ever have need-”

But Frigga shook her head. “You’re still the one who actually did it, Loki,” she said. “And if you are in my debt, then I am in yours as well.”

“My lady-”

She cut him off again. She didn’t usually do that.

“Loki. You owe me nothing. I grew tired of watching the war.”

She smiled and excused herself then, walking lightly through the room, making sure all the guests were well seen-to and no one was left without conversation.

Loki snuck up behind Thor and took his elbow, returning the welcoming smiles of Thor’s new friends, while Fandral began to regale them with a raucous story about a time that the three of them visited a temple of Freya.  Loki tensed briefly, afraid he’d been wrong in what he’d told Thor about Asgardian attitudes towards hierodores, but he quickly relaxed. Fandral started by praising the woman’s cleverness, before describing her stamina in a manner that proved to be at once respectful, jealous, and quite earthy. Thor laughed happily along with the others, and Loki decided he liked them. Perhaps when they returned from the honeymoon, he might even take up sparring. There had been no point to it among the Jötnar, but here, with people his own size, people he liked, moreover, it might prove quite enjoyable.

And then Thor was leaning over to whisper in his ear. “How soon can we sneak out politely?”

Loki had been greatly enjoying the festivities, but upon Thor’s words he was just as eager to make their way back to their chambers. “Well, there’s getting away, and then there’s getting away without being noticed, so that we don’t have revelers drinking and shouting in the hall outside our chambers all night. We should probably wait at least until-”

Thor interrupted him. Loki was beginning to wonder if it was a joke that everyone else was in on.

“Loki! The queen just winked at me. What does that mean?”

Loki looked across the room to see Frigga smiling at them both. She caught Loki’s eye and nodded once, slowly, before ringing on her wine glass with a spoon that appeared in her hand as though out of nowhere.

“Everyone, if I may have your attention, please?” Her voice was strong and commanding. She was still the charming and gracious hostess, but no one could forget, watching her now, that she was also every bit a queen and goddess.

“As marriage is within my purview, I feel called upon to say a few short words on this joyous occasion. I would like to begin by reciting the Tripartite Saga of Eirik and Asvid, followed by Ingrid and Vestar’s Saga - that one is a personal favorite, it is so very long - and concluding with the Quadrivium of the Anonymous Marriage Skald.” Loki suspected that if he were standing nearer to her, he would see her eyes twinkling with the sort of mischief that would make him proud.

He grabbed Thor’s arm and gave it a yank.

They held hands as the walked through the halls of Glaðsheim to their chambers.

“How are you?” Loki asked him gently. “It’s been a big enough day for me, and I’ve been a god my whole life.”

“I am… I am well. I am still getting used to it, though,” he admitted. “I can hear Mjölnir singing to me, and I think I can feel lightning running all through me.”

“Of course you do,” Loki murmured, squeezing his hand. They walked into their hall, both suddenly shy somehow, aware that Thor was at once the man he had always been and also something completely new. They regarded each other silently.

“Go on, then,” Loki said. “Show me how it is to be taken by a god.”


	27. The New Life Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor begins to learn what he has become, as their new life begins together.

  
“Go on, then,” Loki said. “Show me how it is to be taken by a god.”

Thor’s blood leapt at Loki’s words, driving him forward to take that perfect face in his hands and hold tight as their lips met. He growled as Loki grabbed back at him, reaching up beneath one of the clothing layers that he’d named and Thor had forgotten. They kissed, and squeezed, and wrestled, and Thor realized how much Loki had always held back before, careful with his mortal body. He didn’t need to be careful anymore, Thor thought, as Loki jabbed his hips against Thor’s, erections pressed together so tightly it might have been dangerous just a day ago. Now, though, it was nothing but thrilling as they ground themselves on one another.

“Get these things off me,” Thor muttered.

“What? Didn’t Odin grant you the knowledge to undress yourself?” Loki was obviously trying to sound flippant, but his breathing was too hard and choppy to sound like anything but pure sex.

“No, he granted me the knowledge of consummate bossiness instead. I thought it was a basic requirement of godhood,” Thor panted back.

Loki snorted. “How shall I undress you then, _my lord_?” The last two words were a hungry growl, and it sent need shooting straight through him.

“Seiðr. Yours, too,” he answered.

Then they were naked, and pulling and grabbing and tugging on handfuls of hair and somehow making their way over to the bed, where Loki poured himself onto his back, legs dropping open to expose himself completely to Thor, black curls spread over the pillows - even his _hair_  was wanton tonight, Thor thought - and Thor was over him, fierce kisses pressing him down, wanting everything, wanting to lick him and fill him and drink him and melt into him, and then a thought stopped him cold.

He’d only done this once before, and that time, Loki had been very much in charge. For all he’d received, and, at least with Loki, enjoyed it very much, he hadn’t paid all that much attention to the more technical aspects of what made it enjoyable for the receiver. Loki, of course, couldn’t miss using his pause as an opportunity to tease.

“Oh, come on, storm god, don’t you want to take me like a tempest?”

Thor glared as Loki bit back laughter. “You’ve been planning that since the moment Odin said the word _thunder_ , haven’t you?”

“Me?” Loki’s look of shocked innocence confirmed Thor’s suspicions. “No, it just comes to me in a flash, like the way you want to strike me with your lightning bolt, to surge into me like the ocean in winter -”

Thor squashed his hand on Loki’s mouth, but Loki wiggled free. “- you want to flood me, I know it, breach my dam -”

Loki cut off with a moan as Thor squeezed his cock. Maybe winging it wouldn’t be so bad. Loki’s hips shot up into Thor’s hand. Thor kept working him as he lowered his head to Loki’s throat, sucking and biting until he was writhing and gasping with need.

He lifted his head to look around for their bowl of oil, and Loki flailed an arm at their nightstand.

“It’s in the top drawer,” he panted. “I moved it. It seems to embarrass the room cleaners.”

Thor grabbed it and set it back in its usual place, dipping one finger in it before bringing his attention back to Loki. He looked down with a terrible and mighty smile and Loki shivered in pleasure.

When he knelt between Loki’s knees, drawing little circles around the puckered skin, though, he felt anything but mighty. He felt awed, humbled that he was being allowed to do such a thing, that Loki would actually welcome him inside his body. He stared as his finger slowly disappeared. Loki’s entrance was so impossibly tight, and yet it accepted him completely, and Thor was unable to tear his eyes away. This, this was worship, this was reverence. He’d only ever played at such things before.

“It’s…” he whispered, unable to finish his sentence.

“I know,” Loki answered, his voice sounding slightly shaken.

“Is this all right? Is it good?” he asked, anxious.

“It is, Thor, it’s lovely. But it’s all right if you move now.”

Thor watched, dazed, the way the little ring around his finger shifted and moved as he twisted, the way it almost clung to him as he drew almost back out before sliding in again, more quickly this time. Loki’s breath was slower now, each one drawn out and trembling. He’d hoped that Loki would keep directing him, but he realized with a start that this was only Loki’s second time, too, and it must be just as different this time for him as it was for Thor. Well, at least they were in this together, he thought.

As the pressure squeezing down began to lessen, Thor withdrew his hand to get more oil, this time on two fingers. Loki whimpered as his hips bucked upward, following Thor’s finger, trying to keep it inside him. He gasped as Thor carefully pressed back in, so tight now as he took in both. Loki responded much more this time when he started twisting and curling, and Thor felt his cock impossibly stiffen further as Loki suddenly sobbed and squeezed down. It took Thor just a moment to realize that this was a good thing, a very, very good thing indeed, and then he was curling his fingers again, over and over, caressing that precious spot that did such things to his dear Loki.

Thor loved the look on Loki's face, perhaps more raw than he had ever seen him before, and he worked more slowly as he added a third finger, curling and twisting and stretching before trying to add a fourth. At that, Loki’s body tensed, and Thor reluctantly gave up the beautiful view to take Loki’s cock into his mouth. Loki cried out, arching upwards, but also relaxing enough to receive another finger. Thor looked up at Loki’s face as he worked him, fingers driving in harder to match the pattern he was setting with his mouth as he bobbed up and down, cheeks pulled in with suction. He had hoped Loki would be looking down at him, but his head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched.

“Now- Thor-” he moaned.

Thor was on him, then, quickly oiling his cock before putting the head carefully in place as Loki nodded frantically. Loki sobbed his need as Thor slid in, smoothly and carefully, until he was buried to the hilt. Loki’s legs were sprawled around the bed, moving randomly as though searching for purchase. This feeling Thor knew, and he took hold of one leg, then the other, wrapping them around his waist.

“You may like them up over my shoulders later, when you get close,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure Loki heard him - the wind was getting awfully loud - but that was all right, they had so much time, now, so much time to explore and learn exactly what they both liked and wanted from the other.

Loki used his legs to pull Thor to him, bringing his hips up to meet each thrust, and Thor matched his tempo, almost languid at first, but building deliciously as he watched Loki slowly come apart. His body was so lithe, so supple, as he twisted and writhed beneath Thor. As they moved together, faster and harder, Thor wondered if Loki would be able to reach his pleasure just from this. He would enjoy discovering that, but for tonight, he simply wanted to make sure that it happened. He shifted his weight onto one arm, caressing Loki’s throat, that sensitive spot just beneath his jawbone, and then started to drag his hand slowly down towards his cock.

He didn’t make it. Thor suddenly realized that he was close, so unbearably close, and his body began to spark, a thin layer of lightning skimming over his skin and crackling from his fingers as they caressed Loki’s nipples. He was afraid at first that it would be painful, but Loki hissed at him, _yesyesyes_ , so he continued. It also jolted from his cock right into that sweet spot that Thor had been so carefully focusing on, and suddenly Loki was bucking and howling his climax, his muscles gripping and demanding, and Thor grabbed onto Loki’s hips and lost all hope of rhythm as he gave a few last, desperate plunges deep into Loki before tensing and feeling his own pleasure come, as hard and fast and wet as the raging storm outside.

As they lay afterward, wrecked and tangled and boneless with happiness, he growled into Loki’s ear. “ _That’s_  what it is to be taken by a storm god. No silly little metaphors. I _am_  the storm. Whenever you forget, I’ll be here to remind you.”

*****

Loki woke up to a pleasant ache and an even more pleasant memory. He rose carefully and threw open the curtains, only to find a scene of near-devastation in front of him. While most of the trees had managed to stay upright, the lush flower gardens had been beaten into oblivion, and heaps of battered outdoor furniture were littered in every sheltered corner. Thor’s sleepy voice crept out from the blankets.

“Gods, Loki, I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re not moving so easily.”

Loki smirked. “Don’t you dare apologize, Thor,” he said. “I enjoyed every second of it. Moreover, I certainly seem to have come out of it better than the rest of Asgard,” he added, gesturing out the window. “And again moreover-” Thor rolled his eyes at him- “ _again_ moreover, we don’t say _gods_ , we say _Norns_. Unless you mean to be invoking yourself,” he teased.

“I’d like to invoke you,” Thor said, grinning.

“Perhaps that would be for the best, until you get your new abilities worked out a bit.” Loki gestured at the window again, more emphatically, and Thor grumbled but got up and ambled over to stand next to him.

His eyes widened. “Ohhhh. I did that?”

Loki nodded.

“I heard the storm last night, but I didn’t realize…”

“You didn’t notice an interesting correlation between the storm and your own activities?”

Thor gulped and blushed, realizing that the entire realm was privy to _exactly_  what he’d been up to, and when. “Does this mean we have to go to the middle of nowhere every time we want to…”

Loki kissed him. “No,” he said. “It means we need to honeymoon in the middle of nowhere and get you as much practice as we can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so our story draws to a close. Their life won't be as simple as happy-ever-after, of course; Loki is still Loki, even if he is in love. While I don't have another long narrative in my head for a sequel, I will be dropping back in on them from time to time to see what they're up to. 
> 
> I'd like to thank all my readers, and everyone who left feedback of all sorts, it means a lot. I have more stories in the works that I hope you'll like as well. :)


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